Take Me Home, Brother
by Padfoot Reincarnated
Summary: After Obi Wan rescues him from certain death on Mustafar, Anakin tries to find his way back into the light. But the path is shaky. In the midst of espionage, where do his true loyalties lie? Anakin, ObiWan, Padme, Palpatine, twins, QuiGon, and Yoda.
1. Into Hell

SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER

Okay. Setting: Mustafar. Anakin has just taken the leap, his limbs severed. He is clinging to the rocks with his mechanical hand as Obi-wan watches. I hope the rest will become clear. Everything belongs to George Lucas, Lucas Films, 20th Century Fox, and anyone else I don't know of, so PLEASE don't sue me. To you reviewers: this is my first Star Wars fic, and I know it's no good, but be forgiving: don't flame. Please.

I scream. Traitor. I loved him and be betrayed me. I wanted to help him and he is killing me. He didn't understand. I want to kill him now, destroy him for what he's done to me. But I can't.

"You were the Chosen One!" he cries, his voice anguished, "It was said that you would destroy the Sith, not join them! It was you who would bring balance to the Force, not leave it in Darkness!"

I howl in rage at him. I am dieing, and he's done it. And he stands there lecturing me.

My hand slips.

"I HATE YOU!"

No. I don't hate you, Obi-wan. Please understand. Help me. Lead me home, brother. Take my hand and free me from my suffering. Brother and brother.

"You were my brother, Anakin. And I loved you. You betrayed us, you betrayed us all. You're hurting me, Anakin."

I slip further.

The pain is overwhelming. I reach out and grasp it. Harness it. It is my weapon. To strike down my brother.

"I never betrayed anyone, Obi-wan. YOU did. You stole Padme from me. You took my wife and you turned her against me! I was trying to save her and you killed her to me! I did what was right. The Jedi are wrong. You're all wrong! The Chancellor—"

"Is a sith, Anakin. He manipulated you. This thing before me is not Anakin Skywalker. It is a demon in the body an old friend used to inhabit. Anakin Skywalker died—and you killed him. You killed my brother."

I am almost all the way down…slipping…

"Anakin Skywalker was a FOOL! He listened, he didn't use his powers—but I will!" The words are venom. My name is venom, and the poison flows throughout my body. Anakin is no more. I am no more. Obi-wan betrayed me. If only he would take my hand, prove to me that the Jedi aren't evil, that he didn't want to kill me. After all this I would still go back.

Obi-wan is going to leave me to die. He sees not a friend in me, but a demon to be destroyed.

He is right.

I need to go home—Obi-wan does not know that I, Anakin am still here, trapped. He sees only a sith. I have to show him I am still here. Hide my pride. For what is pride if it means dieing?

I am loosing my grip on the rock that is holding me, keeping me alive.

"Obi-wan…I'm still here. Please. Take me back."

"It's too late, Anakin. I cannot do that. You know I cannot. You've become a sith. You are Anakin Skywalker no more. You killed him."

Pain. Torture.

Hate.

Flames encase my body. In my agony, I look up at Obi-wan. He is gaping at me, tears streaming down his cheeks.

The world is fading black, and blackness is engulfing me.

I hate the darkness. I turned to it and left the light.

And now the light will not take me back. It is forcing me back into the shadows. Back into the darkness. Back into the fiery agony that I am trying to leave.

They say they want me to leave the darkness.

I want to leave the darkness.

They cast me into the darkness.

The pain fades away as my nerves are burned. My body is blackened.

My soul is blackened.

Can black be cleansed? I wish the black to go away. Desert me.

The flames crawl up my neck and a fresh wave of pain is born. I shriek and scream and howl and suffer.

It fades as all things do.

_Dreams pass in time._

I look up. Obi-wan is retreating, his shoulders shaking. "I WAS RIGHT ABOUT YOU, OBI-WAN! YOU'RE DESERTING ME! I ASKED TO COME HOME AND YOU CAST ME OUT! OBI-WAN, I NEED YOU! YOUR BROTHER NEEDS YOU!"

He turns. He turns. I was wrong. Obi-wan, you still love me. I did terrible things and you love me. You should hate me. You should kill me for what I've done. Death is too good for me. I deserve this torture.

He looks at me. He uses the Force to kill the flames, and walks down to me. "Obi…I was hoping you would do this for me…I was wrong Obi. Let me die. Through me into the hell. Kill me. Please. I don't deserve life."

"Brother, that you can say that is why I am taking you back. And I love you Ani. You may have done some awful things…well we can talk about this later. I have to get you to the ship now. You need help if you are going to live. You will live, Anakin.

"I promise you."

He picks me up and every nerve in my body screams and shrieks and I give a fresh howl of anguish. What have I done. What have I become.

I find that I can still cry.


	2. And Back Again

**This was supposed to be a one-shot. I don't really know where I'm taking this. Well, kinda, but not really. Thanks everyone for reviewing! Oh, and keep in mind as you're reading this that the burns aren't as extensive as they would have been, because Obi-wan extinguished them before they had even covered his face, or gotten too deep. I hope you enjoy. Again, bear in mind that this was supposed to be a one-shot but it isn't. So, without further ado… **

My thoughts drift. They have to, or I return to the unbearable pain of the real world.

But my thoughts can be no sanctuary. Not after where I've gone. I want noise, I want suffering, I want death—anything to blot out the reminder of what I've done. What I've become.

Padme…I was going to kill her. Maybe I _have_ killed her. "Obi-wan…Master. Padme. What have I done to her? Is she alright?" My throat screams and as I talk. But I have to know. And Master is certainly making no move to speak.

"Anakin, I will not lie to you. You hurt her, perhaps badly."

Everything I've done, I did for her. I killed the innocent so that she would live. I slaughtered children for her! She must live. She must…

Obi-wan is speaking. In a softer voice. Less harsh. "She went without oxygen for thirty seconds. I don't know if any blood vessels have burst. You may even have broken her neck. I don't know. We'll find out when we get back to the ship."

The ship. She brought him here, in that ship. She brought him here to kill me. She…and him.

"Padme brought…"

"Do not speak, Padawan. Rest. Let the Force flow throughout you. Let it back in, Anakin. Let it help you."

Let the Force in me? Let the Darkness I have been a slave to control me once more? Let the fear and despair I'm feeling consume me until I'm gone again and not even a shadow remains? I cannot do that.

I will not do that.

I can see the ship now. Padme's body is lying prone on the ground. Artoo and Threepio are standing over her. I can vaguely hear the whistles and beeps of Artoo, but nothing is clear over the hissing lava and steaming ground.

We are here now, in front of the ship. "Stop. Let me see her…I can help her, Master. Let me help her…"

"Young Padawan, you need far more help than she does. This craft does not have a very good medical center. I am taking both of you to Queeshnow Buysta. They can help you there. Both of you."

Obi-wan lays me on a soft, white couch, which my blood immediately stains red. My face contorts in pain at the touch of the unfamiliar surface. Threepio is carrying in Padme behind me. Her soft cheeks are so pale. Her lovely fingers are limp and lifeless.

And I've done it.

I've done this.

I do not have the energy to speak. Instead I reach out to Master using the force. (Master…is she all right?)

(We've checked her vitals, and she seems to be perfectly fine. I'm going to take her to the Center anyway.)

(Master, I have a confession to make. Please, come back, so I can speak to you with my own voice.)

(I'll be there momentarily, Anakin, let me get Threepio and Artoo set up in the cockpit. I'll bring you some anesthesia.)

I wait. How can I tell Master about Padme and me? After all I've done, how can I strike another blow? I don't want him to be disappointed in me. _But, _admits a small voice, _I've already done the worst I could do to him. To everybody and anybody. Maybe they weren't the ones who betrayed me._

Maybe I betrayed them.

I betrayed them.

All I ask is that he tries to understand.

"Master," I croak as he walks in the door, "I—"

"Wait—let me give you this first, it will make speaking much less painful."

He is holding a syringe. I recognize the fluid in it as Deindai. It will numb all nerves that are at all damaged. It will make me somewhat drowsy, but not put me to sleep.

But, oh how I wish to sleep. Sleep seems to be the only escape I have.

Other than death.

Though he says nothing, I can see Obi-wan thinking as he searches for a place to inject the medicine. I have no arms or legs. Eventually he settles on a vein in my shoulder. I can feel him agonizing over our situation as the medicine flows into my body.

The effect is almost instantaneous. I feel nearly strong enough to sit up, but when I try, Obi-wan places a firm hand on my shoulder and pushes me back down. "You are not strong enough, Padawan, no matter what you may feel. You must rest until we arrive at the center, and then they will begin the healing process." He is quiet. As always when I ask to speak to him, he puts no pressure on me, allowing me to tell him in my own way.

But after about five minutes when I still cannot bring myself to say anything, he seems to be getting impatient, a rare thing in a Jedi. "Come, Anakin. You must stop keeping things inside yourself. I want to help you. Please, let me."

I look up from the floor and open my mouth. No sound comes out. I try again with the same result.

I have to get this over with. I can tell him. He can help me.

"Padme...I married her."

There is silence for a moment.

"Padawan, is that all you needed to tell me? Why didn't you just say it? Didn't you know I would be on your side?"

"Master, she's pregnant. I've seen her dieing in childbirth. The baby is due. Please take her to the center, they have to save her. They must. I tried to save her…but now I can't"

I should tell him everything. He must understand.

"Darth Sidiuous…the Chancellor…Palpatine—he told me that the Dark Side of the Force held many powers not practiced by Jedi—and that one of these powers was the ability to stop death. I couldn't let her die…not when it could be stopped. My mother could have been saved too, if I'd tried harder. I tried for Padme."

"Why the children, Anakin? Surely you didn't believe that would help Padme?"

"He told me that I was not strong enough with the Dark Side. That I couldn't use my anger fully. He said…if I killed them…then the Dark Side would be stronger in me. Strong enough to save Padme. So you see…she has to live."

"Oh, Anakin. I can't see what you are."

**Review! Remember, this hasn't been beta-read, so anything you say will be used to make the story better. And if anyone has any interest in beta-reading this at all, email me at **


	3. Trying to Forget

**I finally updated! Hurrah! Aren't you all so happy? Thank you sooo much to my reviewers. You are what keeps me going! Soo sorry I didn't update in so long, but school is finally out so I should update at least once a week if not more. Plus, this chapter is both short and dumb. I'm tried to write a conversation between Padme and Anakin and failed miserably. I'll actually probably delete this chapter and completely rewrite it. Thanks especially to TorontoBatFan. Now anyway, even if you do hate this chapter, PLEASE review anyway.**

It's black. Everything is black. But I can hear Padme's voice, and that's all that matters. She's alive, she's safe. But for how long?

"Padme…"

"Anakin, lay down! You aren't strong enough. Padme, you must stop crying, you must. Go into the cockpit, and look under the copilot's seat. There should be a medibag there. Bring everything in here. Anakin, hold on. It'll be alright." If I could, I would be smiling right now. Obi-wan, so in control and in charge.

Sounds are still muted, but I can now see vague outlines and faint forms. And what is dominating my black and white world right now is the figure of Padme. "Oh, Anakin. Anakin, I'm so sorry."

You've done nothing wrong. If I could, I would kneel before you and beg you for your forgiveness. I would beg you to accept my love, tainted though it is. I would tell you I understand that I am not worthy of your love. But if only I could hold you one more time.

"Padme, move aside. I have to help him."

"Let me help him, too, Obi-wan."

"Fine. Put this oxygen mask on him—that's right, strap it behind his ears."

I can tell by the way he speaks to her, and she to him, that there are no feelings between them.

Then why was she bringing him to kill me?

"Here, Padme, open this pouch," says the man who tried to kill me as he wipes blood off my face and the stubs that were once my limbs.

I can see, now. Padme's opened the pouch, and inside is a blanket. She drapes the warm cloth over my body, and looks at me worriedly. Tears are falling down her soft cheek. "Is that all we need to do, Obi-wan?"

"It's all that we can do. We are going to another planet in this star system—Anakin, LAY DOWN!—Queeshnow Buysta. It's only about 500,000 miles away. It's not the best, but they'll keep him with us and get him out of any immediate danger. Then we'll be heading to Harrulop."

"Obi-wan…can Anakin and I please speak to each other alone?"

Oh, no. Please, Padme, don't do this. Don't make me remember what I did to you. Don't make me remember what I did to everyone else. Being near you is unbearable. Every time I hear your voice, I think of what I almost did. It feels me with a guilt I never would have dreamed was possible in the past. Instead of filling with happiness so rich and deep at your soft touch, I wish I was never born.

At first I think Obi-wan is going to agree with me. I can feel the soft murmurings of his thoughts through our Force connection, a connection I feared I'd completely severed. I'm surprised to feel the connection is as strong as ever. _How can I let him do this? He's just come back to me. I cannot let him leave again. _Are the distressed hummings coming from Obi-wan.

But in the end he must have decided it would be more harmful for us to be apart, because, like the father he is to me, he nods his consent as he smiles sadly. I cringe as I realize that I am the cause of his sorrow.

"You two can have some time. Padme, don't let Anakin move. And if there's any bleeding or pain, I want to hear about it immediately."

She nods her understanding, and then we are alone. She kneels down by my bed and kisses my cheek gently. "Anakin. I'm so glad you're back with me."

We are both silent for a minute as her hand runs along the remains of flesh on my face. All the while she is determinedly not looking at me.

After a while she turns and faces me. I see a sharp intake of breath when she sees my face.

Then she instantly bursts into tears.

Padme, I'm so sorry. I should have died, rather than murder my own soul and hurt you so. I should have killed myself fighting side by side with Master Windu to take down Darth Sidious. Anything but the choice I made.

It was all for nothing. I made my choice. The wrong choice. Then I came back before I could save Padme.

"Padme…" my tongue feels numb and thick, "please, please don't cry. I'm sorry. I thought…I was doing the right thing. I understand…if you…don't want to be together anymore. I want you to know I still love you." I've never said anything so hard or so true in my life…Padme, please tell me you'll try to love me. Please.

"Anakin, I love you more than _life. _If you hadn't come back to me…I think I would've died. I'm so sorry for everything."

"Sorry for what? You didn't do _anything. _You tried to bring me back. I tried to _kill _you. How do you even feel safe talking to me?"

"Because the man who tried to do those things to me wasn't you, Anakin. It was a creature who'd been hurt, abused, convinced he'd been betrayed. And I sounded like I was _accusing _you of killing younglings…I didn't mean for it to sound that way…"

"Can we please not talk about the younglings?" I ask, in a voice that is cold and commanding. If I make it any other way, I will cry. I'm a murderer. A cold-blooded murderer. Of course I don't want to talk about it!

She looks at me fearfully. She bites her lip and shakes her head. "You need to rest…I think I'd better go. Everything will be fine, Ani. I promise."

She turns to head out the door. As she pulls it shut behind her, I call out, "Don't make promises you can't keep. I learned that the hard way."

**Review!**


	4. But Needing to Remember

A few minutes after Padme leaves, Obi-wan walks into the small compartment where I am located. "We're almost there, Anakin. Just a bit longer."

All I can do is nod miserably. I don't know if I've made the right choice, coming back. Now Padme will die. She will die.

I find myself torn between terror at the thought of losing her and fear at the thought of her living. Because that would mean there was never any danger at all. That would mean I killed needlessly. That I nearly sold my soul to the devil and got nothing out of it.

But how can I wish for her to die? She is what matters most to me in life. In death. More than anything.

But how can I live with myself if she survives?

I can't think about that at all. "Master…what are they going to do to me—at the med-center, I mean?"

"I'm not sure. Artoo has intercepted a transmission from Palpatine, though, instructing his medical team on what _they_ were—are—to do to you—if they find you—though they won't. Well, anyway. If you'd like to see it."

"Let me hear it."

He nods. "Artoo, we need you to play the holo you intercepted."

Artoo rolls in, beeping and whistling. There is a crackling noise, and then Sidious appears. I shudder at the face I once found kind and comforting. We are hearing his half of a conversation. To whom, I can only guess. What I _can_ hear is haunting.

"Have you found Lord Vader yet?...Then hurry your search! If he isn't on Mustafar, then for force sake check the outer rim!...I have no idea what that damn Kenobi may have done with him…you know what will happen if you don't find him….yes, here's what I want done…yes, I know you could heal nearly anything they've done to him…but this is what I am _telling _you to do, Commander. He needs to feel I saved him…No, he won't be as free this way. Of _course _I know that…He will have to stay with me…"

And then, in the place of Sidious, a computer model pops up. It's a figure dressed entirely in black. There is no face, just a black mask. The figure move stiffly as a simulated walk is run, and I am horrified to see that all of his limbs are metal.

Sidious's face is back. "There. You see what I want done…Good. And when you're done with him, bring him to me—there are things we need to—discuss."

I turn my eyes to Obi-wan. "That…person…was that going to be me?"

He turns his face towards me. His grey eyes, normally so cheerful, are clouded and sad. "That is what Palpatine planned to make you, Anakin. A crippled _half _person. You do understand, don't you, that he planned to cripple you so much that you would essentially be enslaved?"

I look away. I understand. I'd left my friends for a life of killings…death…enslavement. All the things I've fought.

Maybe it was fighting them so hard that lead to this. The Jedi have always warned me about going against the ways of the Force. But if death and pain are the way of the Force, then aren't the sith right after all?

I wanted to save her. I've always been able to save things that seemed broken beyond repair.

_There is no pain if there is not loss; there is no loss if there is no attachment._

So, in a way, I suppose every pain I've ever felt was my own fault.

But there is one pain that was inflicted by you, Obi-wan.

"Obi-wan…why did you want to make Padme hate me?"

He looks stricken. "I didn't…I would never do anything like that…Anakin, I've never wanted anything but happiness for you—surely you know that!"

I can hear his panicked thoughts. _Surely I made **that** clear, at least…but right after Qui-gon died…and you know you have always tried to hide attachments…_

He realizes I've overheard his thoughts and looks at me and frowns. "Anakin…"

"Master…I know. But…if she doesn't"—here I drop my voice to a whispered hush—"_hate _me—why did she let you come? Did you lie to her, Obi-wan? Or was…was she—well, did she know you were going to kill me and just not care?"

"She wasn't aware of what was going on at all…I stowed away on her ship. I hid in a compartment…there was no other way, Anakin. She wouldn't tell me where you were hiding."

"She wouldn't?" I feel a bubble of hope rising in me—after all I did—she forgave me. But… "Master…did she know what I'd done, when she made that choice?"

"I'd told her…but I don't know if she really believed me. Anakin—I don't know if even I believe it…I saw the security holos, but—Anakin, is it true? It's just—well, you know, the younglings always looked up to you…"

I can feel the hope, the final hope, rising in him—maybe his padawan, his son, his brother, is innocent. Maybe I didn't do it, he thinks. I thought that for a little while, too.

I face him as best as I can, steely eyed. I'll have to resolve this sometime—maybe it's better to do it now. He and Padme will both have any lingering doubt banished, and then maybe we can forget this.

Maybe _they_ can forget this, at least.

Because I know I never will.

"I did…I drugged myself beforehand. I didn't want to see their faces. I didn't want to hear them scream. I knew that if I saw them…if I saw my friends begging me to let them live—I knew I could never do it. I didn't want my…cowardliness…to become the cause of Padme's death. So I gave myself something that would alter the synapse in my brain, temporarily. Make me more animal than human. It would be like sleepwalking… So that I wouldn't consciously have any control over it. So that it could be done without me having to knowingly inflict the blows—because I knew I couldn't do it…and it seemed so unfair for Padme to have to die because I was afraid.

"But then…I must not have given myself enough—because I became conscious again in the temple—after all the killing—and I was just standing there, standing among the bodies of children. One looked like me, a little. Well, he had blonde hair, and blue eyes, anyway. And he was laying on the ground—in three pieces. And I realized I'd done it. I cried, Obi-wan. I don't think I've ever cried so hard. And then I was afraid. And I thought of contacting you. But I knew how disappointed you would be—and I couldn't take your disappointment. I've never been good enough…and I'm sorry."

I look up at him. He looks older. I've made him age. His forehead is pressed into a hand. But his shoulders are shaking and I can see tears streaming down his face. He looks up at me. "I'm so sorry, Anakin. You are…you always have been…too good for me. Too powerful. Too willful…Too loving, even. Qui-gon would have been better for you. But I wasn't good enough. I was too cowardly to let you know Anakin. But you're my only family. I could kill myself now for letting this happen. I was so afraid of what the council would do if they found out about my attachment to you…if they knew that you were a brother and a son and a friend who I couldn't let go of…that I pretended my attachment didn't exist. And denial made me push you away. I wasn't there for you like a father should be. And I'm so sorry. I think…this is my fault…"

We are both silent for a minute. We are both crying, him, huddled up and crouched against the shadowy wall of the craft, and me, vulnerable and hurting on the once white couch.

"You know, Anakin," he says after a while, in a hesitating and creaky voice, as though is afraid to advise me at all, "valuing life is not a weakness."

I nod. We both can feel the bond between us, strengthened through sorrow. The room is heavy with the air of death and loss. With forgiveness and regret. With a love so deep neither of us could admit it was there—until it was almost destroyed.

"Obi-wan? Anakin? We're here. There are some droids outside coming in to get Anakin."

**Yeah! I finally updated. I did, however, let me remind you, make my once a week deadline.**

**Yes. I know the dialogue in this scene was stiff and unrealistic. I really thought Obi-wan and Anakin needed a talk though. I think it did resolve some of the stuff between them…though they will have to talk again later (lol :). I hope some of you are still reading this and I didn't disgust you so much you are pounding you computer's brains out with a hammer.**

**This isn't supposed to be slash at all, if that's what you're thinking. Just a very strong bond between two friends. **

**I actually have a plot planned now, so I _should, _theoretically, update faster. There is a pretty major thing coming up with Anakin. Not next chapter, but pretty soon. So stay tuned.**

**Anakin will get the medical help he needs very soon. Don't worry! I won't neglect the fact he is badly injured. But remember, the burns aren't _as _extensive as they would be. **

**I can't think of anything else to say. Just please please review!**

**I get to do individual review responses! Yeah! I love it when people do this. So now it's _my _turn to be the nice author. I'm just responding to reviews on chapter three, though. So don't get mad or anything.**

**Lightsabermaster: hope you like this as much as you seem to like the rest!**

**Eledee: Yeah! I continued! Hope you like it. I like your penname, btw.**

**Lanfear1: I updated…maybe not _soon _persay, but I updated!**

**Redneck626Arya4LayaSparrow: I believe you have your update!**

**Solana1: Well, I emailed you. Hope I can help!**

**anakinhottie: glad you liked it…though I totally disagree with you**

**Eohthen lord of Rohan: Well, here it is!**

**GMUXMenSoaps: Glad you enjoyed it.**

**Has anyone other than me noticed this is getting pretty repetitive? This is harder than it looks…lol. Well I'm going to stick with it!**

**Kira: Here it is!**

**HopelessBeautifulDreamer: I should have taken your advice…lol…I'm trying to pull this together the night of my self imposed deadline.**

**AngelWarrior74: Hee hee hee…only I know their fate! I actually do know their fate, so updates should be a lot faster right now. All I can say is there is a major thing happening with Anakin later on.**

**JY: You get your wish, I continued!**

**Lily: I wish they did this or something like it in the movies, too. I cried when I saw it. The final bit is sooo sad!**

**lucyrocks73: I'm very glad you like it.**

**eridani****: Here you go!**

**TorontoBatFan****: I was drawing the blood thing from in Episode IV when Obi-wan cuts off that guys arm in the cantina…it was sure bleeding! LOL, I guess that guy wasn't really human. I don't really know that much about medicine, Star Wars or otherwise. I haven't read the EU and I can't find a Red Cross program for people my age (13.) And now Anakin knows Obi-wan was a stowaway and he's started to talk about the temple a bit. As for Padme touching his face, she really doesn't know much about medicine, either. They will definitely pay for that, though…As for pain, he is still pretty much numb from the injection Obi-wan gave him. Hope you enjoyed this chapter…don't worry, Anakin will get all the medical help he needs next chapter. **

**MaekoChan****: Glad you are enjoying this.**

**Dracula's Lair****: Glad you like it.**

**forceflow46: I tried to put in a heart to heart. Tried. Did it work? You be the judge.**

**Destynii Skywalker****: Like I said before, I just know nothing about medicine. Glad you kinda like this so far, though.**

**bandgsecurtiyaw****: this is a bit longer…1430 words. So not great, but better, lengthwise.**

**Kyro****: here is a longer chapter for you!**

**mysticallove****: I love angst!**

**Blood of the Wolf****: Glad you enjoyed it…I'm still planning a rewrite of the chapter though.**

**Myotismon13****: Yep. They're all in a rather tough situation, aren't they?**

**I think I got everybody!**


	5. How Can We Trust You?

In the next instant, I find myself on a cold metal stretcher. Various droids hover around the quickly moving bed, as Obi-wan and Padme jog beside it to keep up. As Obi-wan hangs back to explain my injuries to a small astrodroid, Padme comes even with the stretcher. "Padme," I say, cringing painfully—the anesthetic is starting to wear off—"Please, don't let them—don't….make sure when I come out of here, I'm still human."

She touches her hand to her chin, looking confused, even frightened.

"Promise me, Padme."

She shakes her head. "I can't." The voice is little more than a gasp, stricken weak by all the things I've put her through. "I…I don't want to make promises anymore. Please don't make me."

She doesn't understand! This isn't an impossible promise—this is something she must say—can't she understand? How can she let me become a slave like Sidious wanted? Does she want that for me?

"Padme, please—" And then in a horrible wave of fire and acid the medicine is gone and I am gone.

I can't remember who I am or where or why. All I know is the unbearable fire that is crawling over my body and eating me. I feel a detached interest in the howls and shrieks coming from my body. I can see, as though I am not contained within myself, a writhing form on the stretcher. It's disfigured and disgusting, a slimy, red, wormlike creature. Whether from the pain or horror at the figure, I feel heat rising in my throat and I am retching and a second later choking on the vomit as I struggle to breathe and scream to blot out the pain. _This is it_. And Padme's frantic face swirls before my eyes and Obi-wan's yell is muted and the world is black and soft and peaceful….

Then the black changes to darkness, a dark that threatens and tries to destroy me. All over, just the dark. It roars and tries to move into me, at the same time beckoning me to let it.

Then there is a light, a beautiful light. It's so soft. It's quiet here. There is nothing. I can't feel anything. All I can see is that beautiful, dancing glow that surrounds everything.

_Where am I?_

_**You are with me, child.**_

_Who are you?_

_**You know me.**_

_I do?_

_**Yes. Who am I, child?**_

_I don't know! Tell me, please!_

_**I cannot change to suit your means and mood. You must find yourself in me.**_

_I can't! Who are you?_

**_If you do not know, then you are already lost._**

Then the horrible, consuming darkness is back. It burns me worse than I was ever burned by Obi-wan or the fire on Mustafar. _How can it burn me? _I wonder absently. _I don't seem to be in my body. _It tries to snake inside me. I fight it, but the more that enters me the harder it becomes…

I'm pinned down to a smooth glass table hovering in the middle of a room. The first thing I see as I gingerly open my eyes is Padme. Behind her is Obi-wan.

"Anakin, can you hear me?" Obi-wan's voice is filled with fear and barely disguised panic. His face is red and his hair disheveled.

"Of course I can hear you. Why wouldn't I?" What happened? I struggle to move and sit up before I remember. I turn my head, cringing as I hear, rather than feel, my skin tear. As soon as I see the charred remains of my arms, I shut my eyes tightly. I don't ever want to see that again.

That might prove difficult.

"Anakin—are you sure you're alright?" Padme is trying to look at me, biting her lower lip. I'm sorry I have to be like this, Padme. But it's all for you.

"Do I look as though I'm 'alright?'" I ask, my voice bitter and hardened. "For that matter, do I look as though I'll ever be alright again?"

"Anakin, I'm just worried about you! Haven't you ever been afraid for someone?"

Yes. But you, afraid? You're never worried. Or has that all been some kind of trick, like everything else I ever believed?

"Why were you worried? What happened?"

"Anakin, you _died."_

It takes a minute for those words to sink in. I'm dead? How can I be dead? I thought I was supposed to become one with the Force when I died. All Jedi are supposed to! How come I didn't? I went back to the Light Side before I died! Or did I? I was so sure I did…

"Obi-wan—" I ask my newly (re)adopted master hesitantly—"How come I'm like this? How come I'm not one with the Force? Or…are you both dead too?"

"Of course we're not dead. Neither are you, for that matter."

"But you said…"

"Your heart and respiratory system stopped functioning. But the droids brought you back—I'm sure you can thank them later. They've been keeping you under anesthesia for several hours while they examined the senator."

"But why didn't you have them wake me up?" Were you afraid of me Obi-wan? Did you think I would come back only to hurt Padme, or you? I can't stop suspicion and doubt from creeping into my mind.

**_Anakin, _**he thinks, softly—why use the Force, though?—**_I thought, that, considering what you told me about your visions of Padme's death, it would be…for the best if you weren't awake in the event they did find anything that could prove fatal in childbirth._**

_And…did they?_

**_Nothing major. Nothing that should lead to her death._**

I moan out loud. So. All Sidious ever told me was a lie. But the visions! They were just like the ones when my mother died. What if they are right after all?

But how can they be? There's nothing wrong with her.

How do I know he's not lying? Demands the small, hating part of my mind, he's lied before.

Yeah, says the other part of me, then tell me, when has he ever lied to you?

And the doubtful voice is silent.

But not gone.

"Senator Amidala," says a tall, silvery droid in a stiff, mechanical voice, as it grabs Padme's elbow "You must rest. You're very weak. You must rest."

"No—I don't need, to, really. Thank you for all you've done for me, but I'm much better."

"Senator, you must come with me—"

"No, I need to talk to my husband."

"He will be beginning treatment in under an hour. He must rest, too."

She bites her lip and shakes her head in frustration. "Thank you for being so good to us, Master Obi-wan…Anakin—I guess I have to go now. I'll try and get back soon. And we can talk a little. I love you, okay?"

"I love you, too, Padme.

Though she tries to sound hard and unbending, I hear her voice breaking when she speaks to me. And when she walks away, her head is hanging low on her chest and she is wringing her hands as if she can't think what to do. I'm sorry I've hurt you, Padme. (Maybe I should try slaying that out loud.) But I would do absolutely anything to make the last few weeks disappear.

That's definitely an understatement.

But I don't _want _to talk to Padme. I don't want to hear what she thinks of me after all the things I've done. I'm afraid of what she'll say.

But it's better than being alone. Where I'll have to hear what _I _think of me.

And that will be worse.

"Anakin—" says Obi-wan in a low voice as soon as the harsh steel doors swing shut behind her retreating back, "Did you _see _anything after you died?"

I can vaguely recall a beautiful light. I remember talking to it, but I don't remember what it said. And I remember the serpent of darkness that snaked around me and within.

When I tell this to Obi-wan, he looks frightened for a minute, then resumes his calm demeanor.

"That was the Force. The fact that you saw both sides means you haven't made up your mind yet. What is it that Palpatine has to offer you that the Jedi don't? Please tell me, Anakin!"

I shake my head desperately. I don't know. I thought I'd made my choice. I thought I'd cast out the darkness.

"How can we ever trust you if you're like this, Anakin?"

"I don't know, Master." I mutter, casting my eyes down miserably.

Obi-wan opens his mouth to speak, but before he does, the doors to the room we're in slide open and the same droid who escorted Padme away from me is back.

"Masters, the Senator's water broke."

Oh, Force.

**Thanks everybody so much for all the awesome reviews you've been giving me. It's really nice to know people are reading this. You guys are absolutely incredible, your reviews really keep me going. The support I've received for this is phenomenal.**

**Obviously, I redid this chapter. I just really didn't like the old version. I do like this better, but if anybody really really wants the old one back I might consider it.**


	6. Eons

**If you did not read my rewrite of chapter 5, I suggest you do that now. If you don't want to, then basically, where we're at right now is Padme is going into labor. So I set it back a bit. Also I am sorry for not updating sooner but I was at camp. Also, I think ther might be a little confusion. That last chapter was by no means the end of the story. So, read, hopefully enjoy, and please review!**

"Master—we must go to her—"

"You cannot, Anakin, not in the state you're in—"

A state you put me in. But if you had not hurt me, I suppose I would have stayed with Sidious. Stayed with the law. But if the law tells me to kill children, how can the law be right? Is the lesser evil taking freedom or taking lives? Slaughtering hope or slaughtering innocence?

"I'll go to Padme, she will want someone familiar, at least—"

But no—that's how it was in my vision. Padme, weak and in pain, with Obi-wan standing over her, touching her shoulder and comforting her as she struggled to hold on.

"Obi-wan, please, for her sake, don't go!" I say desperately. How can I make him understand?

He frowns, confusion barely concealed. "Why not? I wouldn't think you would want her to be alone."

"I _don't, _Master, but in the visions I had, where she—died—you were there, and you spoke to her as she grew weaker. If you aren't there, then my vision can't come true—she will live. Master, she _must live._

"Anakin, I've told you, the droids found nothing at all that could possibly result in death. Besides, you need to rest. If Padme was going to die, then my being out of the room at the time will not change that."

"Master!"

But he's gone already, leaving me alone.

Then I have a companion, as guilt comes and overpowers me and tries to swallow me. I remember waking up at the Temple and seeing all the children around me, dead, and I walked around looking for anybody alive, anybody to tell me what had happened. I remember watching the security holos and myself in a rage and destroying children just like my own child about to be born.

I killed sons and daughters. Will their parents ever know? Who is left to tell them that the people they trusted with their baby's life killed them, even as they begged him for mercy? Will they blame themselves as they realize their infant, their little one, would still be alive, if they hadn't given them away all those years ago? And who is left to tell them?

I remember how dazed I was, running out of the Temple. Panic. Confusion. And then Lord Sidious came. Oh how calm he was! How confident! And I went to him because he had a job for me to do, and I needed to do something, anything.

The Separatist Leaders begged for mercy too. But my staff was hellfire sent from death, and it knew only killing. Oh, how clearly I can see their faces now—

More clearly than the children.

But even now I can remember vaguely their faces, and I can use older memories, from before, when I never dreamed of killing, to attach names to the faces. The dark-haired girl is Lyra, the small boy was Hi'enlas. And as I run the security holo through my mind over and over it become so real the actually memory floods back in a torrent of emotion and a flood of numbness and I watch through my own eyes as the blue light ignites and snuffs out the little stars one by one…

I should die. A child-killer does not deserve to live. Where is my saber? But no, I cannot hold it. And I deserve that, and so much more, I should be torn apart limb by limb for eternity until my screams outlast the cries of all the children ever harmed.

There is a fine line between love and hate, and it's so hard to know when you've crossed it. I remember how my love for Padme was transformed into a hatred so real and pure that I wanted her to never have existed or exist again.

But the line between heroism and villainy is even thinner, nearly invisible. Am I the brave man who sacrificed his soul for the one he cared about? Or am I the cruel and merciless beast who selfishly slaughters children because of his fear? Am I the only one who was loyal to democracy, no matter what it took? Or am I the greedy tyrant, who, when presented with power, sought it hungrily?

I must have been here hours, I don't know it could have been less. Countless times I've murdered since you left me here, Obi-wan, the tape replaying endlessly in my mind. Endless times I've been betrayed by you and burned over and over, until that agony becomes more real than the present where droids hurry in and out, replacing the fluids in my IV and checking my blood pressure and giving me more anesthesia until I'm not sure which is real and which is a dream.

Then, so many eons after you left me, reality hobbles back in, and slowly the dreamworld is drowned out by reality, because there is Padme, alive—oh, I've killed for nothing, because you would have lived—but I nearly killed you!

And in your arms is a bundle of blankets, our child, our beautiful creation, and I want to shout, to tell you to take her far from here, away from me, least my blackness infect her and her horrible innocence.

But I am too numb, and I do not move, and I do not speak. I just watch as the droid pushes you, in your wheelchair, closer and closer. And I close my eyes so that I will not have to see her face. Just like the children I killed. And someone just like me could come and steal her away someday because of love. Or I could steal her. If someone told me harm would come to Padme unless I stifled her pure and sweet cry, what could I do? I can't be around this child. I might hurt her. She shouldn't be here, she or her mother, or even Obi-wan, or—

Who is this? I can feel a fourth being in the room, so quiet and faint, but stong.

"Anakin," Padme says, her face flushed and exhausted, her mahogany locks hanging out of place, "meet our children. Children, this is your father."

What? Children? How can this be! Padme only sensed a girl, just one—twins! But that explains the fourth presence—a boy. My son.

"We have to name them."

I give an almost imperceptible nod. I am mesmerized by the darker child's face—she looks like Padme. And her solemn eyes stare back at me, and I look away. She understands, I know. Somehow she knows what I've done. So entranced am I with her tiny features that I barely notice Obi-wan slip out the door.

And the boy. He looks for all the galaxy like me. His eyes are pale and deep, and his light hair curls lazily over his forehead. If he is trained to be a Jedi, will he be like me? But no, that's not possible, this child is so perfect, not capable of hurting anything. He couldn't be.

"Luke and Lyra?" Padme suggests tentatively.

No. Lyra is one that I murdered, that I struck down. I will respect her memory. Her killer has not right to give his child her sacred name.

"Not Lyra."

"Leia?"

"Leia…" It is so perfect. It suits this tiny being, from her curious wide eyes to her halo of brown hair. _Are you an angel? _So many years ago…

"But their full names must be Luke _Obi-wan _Skywalker and Leia _Schmi _Skywalker. Please, Padme, let me honor them."

"They both deserve whatever honor we can give them, many times over…"

And the four of us are huddled together. And for a minute I think that everything could really turn out all right. Because right now everything is still and at peace. Love fills the room and encloses us until there is no Darkness and no sin and no past or future. Just now and our family of one.

Obi-wan knocks at the door. "Excuse me, Anakin, but Master Yoda needs to speak to you immediately before you go into surgery."

And the door creaks open, and the tiny green master hobbles in, leaning heavily on his cane.


	7. Chapter 7

We stare at each other for a moment, his small round eyes boring into mine until I have to look away. 

"Young Skywalker," he grunts in his scratchy voice, "glad to see you with us, I am. Amazed at your turning I am."

How do you respond to something like that? "Thank you, Yoda," I reply hesitantly.

"But attachments to your family, I fear you still hold. Very dangerous this is. Too strong, I fear these attachments are. As long as these feelings, you hold, power, Sidious still holds over you."

I wish everyone would stop doubting me! But I remain calm. "Master Yoda, I assure you that my loyalty is now with the Jedi and my family. I've left the Sith"

"But," he utters with finality, "betrayed us before you have, because attachments, you held. If of any help you wish to be to the Jedi, sever all bonds, you must."

What? I'm filled with an instantaneous shock and dread. He is asking me to make an impossible decision, a cruel decision.

And yet, in a way, my mind has been made up for me since the instant I abandoned the Code and allowed myself forbidden love. So, maybe there is no decision at all.

"I can't do that, Yoda," I declare flatly, "If that is what you are going to ask of me, then I'll leave the Order."

"What?" yelps Obi-wan with surprise, "you can't do that! It's--"

"No, Master Obi-wan. Making the right choice, Young Skywalker is. Safer, it will be, for him to be isolated from the Force."

"It's not _his_ decision I'm concerned with," Obi-wan continues angrily, "It's _yours_! You know as well as I do that it would be completely impossible for Anakin to sever the bonds he's created, either with other people or the Force. You ask the impossible, and then punish him for not doing it."

"Possible it is to sever connections with family. Skywalker chooses not too." Yoda answers matter-of-factly.

"I don't even understand _why_ he must sever attachments. If he's off on his own and gets another of those visions of his, you know he'll heed it." So nice how they can discuss my future as though I'm not here.

But Obi-wan continues, "But if you allowed him to stay, then we can help him submit to the will of the Force. It's so dangerous, casting him out after what he's been through." he pauses, then adds, as an afterthought, "Besides, I was on the council, too. I have as much right to an opinion as you do."

"Influenced, you are, by connection with former padawan. Biased, your opinion is."

I glance helplessly at Obi-wan. Yoda is right, and I'm sure he'll know it, too.

But then...Obi-wan is right, as well. There is no reason Yoda should dictate our destinies anymore. Just because I'm told to stop being a Jedi is no reason to actually stop. As far as we know, after all, I'm one third of the remaining Jedi. I could keep doing what I would as a Jedi and nothing would really be different. Except Yoda wouldn't be around to give me orders. That, I decide, is what I'll do.

"Yoda," says Obi-wan sadly, "if you are going to leave Anakin because of some attachment, then I'm leaving too. I have my own attachments that I don't want to sever."

Yoda looks shocked. Now, the real power,does not include him at all. Doesn't he see? The Jedi Order doesn't exist anymore. Trying to pretend it does by abandoning people who don't follow the old code is ridiculous. It would be so much better for all three of us, the last three with any Jedi training, to band together to pass along the knowlege.

"Very well," mutters the old Jedi Master, "expelled you both are. Alone, I will rebuild the Jedi Order."

I wish he would just understand! He's the wisest of the three of us, and we could have used his help. But already he is preparing to hobble out of the room. "Good Jedi, you were. Miss you, I will. If need the assistance of a Jedi you do, find you, I will. Senator Amidala, good fortune I wish to you and your children. Anakin," he continues, "the first to return from the Dark Side you are. Perhaps the balance tipped it has."

But as he shuffles back out, barely five minues after he came in, I realize something. Today is the first time he's ever called me Anakin.

"I can't believe we did that," I mutter, in shock, "we just _left_ Master Yoda."

"You heard him. He said himself he didn't want to participate in an Order that allowed for attachment."

"I know. I'm just a little surprised, that's all. He doesn't seem to realize that the Order doesn't really exist anymore."

"The Order has existed his entire life. It's not surprising that he can't adjust himself to the change."

Another twinge of guilt. But I fight it this time. I can't change what I've done. But maybe I can make it up to all the people who died, who were massacred--who _I_ massacred--by recreating what I destroyed.

Thinking of this, I reach into the Force to see if either of my babies will be strong enough in the Force to become a padawan. It could work either way. The Force is usually not passed through inheritance. But because of what I iam/i, things will be different. These children would not be alive if not for the Force. Of course, we would need a midichlorian count before anything was official, but this would do--

It was incredible. They are stronger than some Jedi Master's in the way they touched the Force.

When I was a padawan, Master Obi-wan explained the Force to me like a river. The Jedi, he said, only flowed with the Force, downstream. It was much easier and more effective to do this, but it meant that the Jedi had no control over their own destinies. They went where the river took them. But some people, he explained, the sith, did not like where the river went. And so they chose to go upstream, or carve new paths for the river to follow. Because the river was so mighty, it was harder and you had to be stronger.

Like with a river, he said, all things that touched it made ripples. And because we were all different, the ripples were all different. Some people were the tiniest of fish, making little difference. Others were huge river barges, cutting the Force easily.

All those remembered lessons from long ago fly into my head as I feel Luke and Leia's pesence in the Force. Both so powerful and untamed and strong. They are both exceptional, no doubt about that.

But a part of me fears that they will share the other qualities that lead me where I am. No, I think firmly, I will not allow this to happen to them.

How? Are you going to prevent them from ever loving?

Anything.

As I reach into the Force, I realize it is different. It is a subtle difference, but noticable. The river is faster, but steadier. The seemingly meaningless ripples that once splashed up everywhere are gone. It feels more...controlled. More purposeful.

_Master_ I ask silently,_ have you felt the change in the Force?_

_**Yes**_ he replies, **_can you explain it any better than I can?_**

_I doubt it._

He chuckles out loud, breaking the connection.

A surgeon droid comes in and starts rolling my stretcher down a long hallway. With the more complicated procedures, they use real people, but for routine operations like what I'm about to undergo, droids are enough.

Padme and Obi-wan look scared. I'm not. I'm happy I'll have a chance to sleep. Sleep gives me freedom. There is nothing but my dreamland, no master but myself. No one expects me to destroy the Sith or rebuild the Jedi or balance the Force or take care of my family. In my own domain, I can just be, existing. It feels strange to have the lightness that comes from the loss of obligation, and now of guilt. Because sleep always takes away mind, and so guilt is lost as well. But so wonderful. So easy to pass the hours just existing. And now sleep is being given to me. A gift. A few hours.

And then the return. The return that always comes. And then no matter what I do I have the obligations created just by living. No escape. Always partly belonging to someone else, even if I am no longer a slave. But now forget that and melt into the silent world they are making for you and enjoy this freedom while it lasts.

I wonder if death is like sleep.

* * *

There are people all around me, surrounding me, holding me. Master Windu? I thought you were dead?

**No. Just part of the Force.**

And there--that child, that little one--she was dead, too. I'd killed her. _Master Skywalker, help us._

No! That was what sleep held me from, from being needed, from all the things expected of me.

_Master Skywalker, we can help you. I should not be lingering. I should join the others. But I wanted to ask you to please come help us. Because we can't do it much longer. You are needed here_.

But why? Why did it have to be me who was needed everywhere? Expected to do everything. Needed to do everything? Why couldn't someone else be the damn Chosen One?

But it isn't someone else. It's me. And I'm needed. Even in my last sanctuary I am needed.

And for the first time I doubt I can help.

* * *

**NOTE**

**I'm really sorry I didn't get this posted but I had major technical difficulties. Our computer got a bunch of viruses and messed up all our text editting programs. Like you could write something and save it but then you could never access it again. Which wasn't good. Plus our internet was not working. So I just scribbled this down in Notepad at 3 in the morning. I really don't know how I feel about this chapter, it might stay, it might go away and become something totally different. I personally think Anakin is spending way too much time dreaming and not really doing anything. But ya know, having him go unconcious is an easy way to pass time. So you reviewers tell me what you think, I really appreciate constructive critisism, so don't hesitate to point out anything. You reviewers are absolutely awesome, and I should be able to get back on schedule now.**


	8. Chapter 8

I wake filled with a new dreadful heaviness and burden. There is so much more, so much I'm expected to do. I don't know exactly what Mace and the children meant to tell me, but I know from the sadness in their voices it's important.

"Master Anakin?" says a hesitant voice, wiping away the last traces of foggy sleep from my mind, "Master Anakin, can you hear me?"

"Yes--who is this? Threepio? What are you doing here?"

"I have been instructed to keep watch over you, and alert Mistress Padme and Master Kenobi when you awake," he answers politely.

"Well, I'm definitely awake. But why couldn't they just wait in here for me themselves?" I wonder aloud.

"I'm afraid I'm not quite sure. But my, you do look so much better. I must admit I was worried when I saw you, but this is really astounding!"

"What do you mean?" I look down at my body, amazed, and the burden is wiped from my mind as well.

Both of my hands look real. I move them, and they feel real too. The only thing that alerts me to the fact that these aren't flesh and blood it the faint whirring sound they make when I move them. The new skin, over the places where Obi-wan cut me, is paler than the rest, and softer. But I can hide that easily.

I sit up and look at my legs. They seem a little longer than before, and maybe stronger, but they are so much better than the clunky mechanical ones the Council would have issued me.

There isn't a mirror, so I reach up and touch my face. The skin is not longer scraped raw and burnt, though it feels very thin. I feel the top of my head and am delighted to feel short, wispy stalks of hair growing up to replace what was singed away.

My breathing is easy without an oxygen mask, and painless, as I ask Threepio, "How long have I been out of it?"

"Two weeks," is the answer.

"What? Two weeks? That can't be right."

"It seems there were some complications after the surgery, an infection or something of the sort," he responds calmly to my outraged voice as he presses a small button on a remote he's holding. "That will contact them; they have the other ones," he explains.

I sit back. There really isn't anything to do but wait.

It doesn't take long; Padme arrives within five minutes of Threepio's radio signal.

"Anakin, you look so wonderful. Are you feeling alright?" she questions in a guarded tone.

"I'm fine. How are you and the babies?" I ask, changing the subject so that she will not find out about my dreams.

"Oh...Anakin, the babies--" she breaks off into a choked sob.

"What's wrong?" I ask in a high pitched voice, completely unnerved.

"It's...nothing, I guess. They're both safe. But...I had to send them away. Oh, Anakin, I'm a horrible mother! I gave my babies away!"

"What happened?" I growl above her uncrontrolled weeping.

"The Chancellor's alive--and he knows I was pregnant. And he's put a bounty on their heads. But he didn't know it was twins, so he's only looking for one. So I had to separate them. Luke's on Naboo in the care of the queen and Leia's on Alderaan with Bail Organa and his wife. And I get messages and pictures everyday. But I miss them...so...much!" I stand up, distantly awed at the legs that have been created for me, and take her in my arms, running my hand through her hair as we embrace.

"Ani, I'm just so scared. He could find them despite everything. And they won't even remember me when they come back!" she cries desperately, "They won't even know their mother." She swallows, and says, as if trying to justify herself, "I wouldn't have done it, Ani, but they're so strong with the Force--all that raw power--he'd recognize it for sure if they were together. You and Obi-wan can at least mask it..."

"Padme, my love, don't worry. Everything will be right. I'll find him. I'll kill him!" I put my hands on either side of her face and look into her eyes. "I promise."

"Anakin--"

"No."

I turn away from her

I can't believe I ever thought Palpatine was my friend! He was plotting to destroy everything the entire time. The Jedi...the Republic... He made me kill younglings and my friends--

No. No one made you do that. You did that yourself.

A part of me still struggles against the idea that one of my most trusted friends for more than half of my life, one whom I'd maybe even trusted more than Obi-wan, could possibly be so totally evil.

Just because he's a sith, argues the stubborn voice, doesn't make him evil. He just...has a different worldview than you.

Okay. So maybe I could accept someone being a sith. The way you use the Force doesn't automatically make you good or evil, does it?

But so many of the things Palpatine has done are evil. Storming the Jedi Temple to make his new apprentice stronger, for one. It almost seems as if that apprentice is a different person, a differen life. Maybe it is. I've had so many lives. Slave. Padawan. Hero-Without-Fear. Darth Vader.

But now I am Father, and all I can see in my old friend is that he's caused my family to break up. Scattered across the galaxy.

And I will find him. And I will get revenge, for everything. I will kill him for taking my children. I will kill him for lying. For destroying democracy. For hurting Padme.

But most of all I will kill him for myself. For taking advantage of me when I considered him a friend; almost a second father.

I will kill him, and bring Order, and fulfill the Prophecy.

And then perhaps my burden will be lifted and I will have peace.

I jerk suddenly back to the present, to Padme. "Where are we?" I ask, gesturing vaguely around the strange room. It's completely white, except for a hard silver box in each corner with electric currents running through.

"A system called Harrulop. This is one of the rooms in the medcenter. They moved you here after you caught an infection--probably saved your life. This room is special because it can mask some Force signals, with magnets and things, so Palpatine won't find you," she says in a shaky voice, "Obi-wan's in the other one. I would have hidden the twins, but the magnets aren't nearly strong enough. They can only hide so much on their own, the rest has to be masked manually by the person. And the babies can't do that yet...so it wouldn't do any good," she says, as though trying to convince herself. "It's worked for you the past while because you've been so close to dead, and they're okay for Obi-wan because he can use a mask. But the babies...they would have shown right through, and brought Palpatine here to kill us all, or take them to train."

"You did the right thing," I assure her gently, "I'll find the Chancellor, and then we can all be together again. He may have defeated Yoda, but he'll be no match for me," I declare confidently, "But first, I need to talk to Obi-wan to see if he had any plan in mind; where is he?"

"He's next door, in another room just like this. But you'll have to communicate by commlink. I'm told that even with the strongest masks a little of your presence will still still leak through without the manufactured masks. And if the Chancellor finds out you're alive, Ani, that will make it that much harder to win. And if you and Master Obi-wan are in the same one of...these," she says, waving her hand helplessly, "then your presence will leak through. It's just not strong enough. Speaking of which, I should go. I know I'm not strong with the Force, but you are, so much that even I might be enough to push through the shields and give us away."

I bow down and kiss her hungrily. It's been so many lifetimes since I've tasted your soft lips...so many eons.

She breaks away tenderly, and retreats out the door.

A few minutes later I find myself speaking to a hologram Obi-wan. "Anakin!" he says warmly, "you look so much better. How are you feeling?"

I frown. "Actually Master, I had another dream."

He looks stricken; I suppose I can understand that, my dreams have cost him a lot.

"It wasn't one of those," I reassure him, "but it confused me. Mace Windu, and some of the Padawans and youngling were there, and they talked to me."

"That sounds like an ordinary dream," he says, bewildered.

"No. It was different. They were really there, in the Force. They spoke to me."

"It's supposed to be impossible to retain a sense of self after becoming one with the Force."

"I know, that's what confused me. They were definitely dead, but they hadn't really become one with the Force, they were just parted from their bodies." Exactly, says a voice (that sounds suspiciously like Qui-Gon Jinn), I couldn't put it better myself.

Obi-wan frowns. "I don't understand any better than you do. But I'm sure the Force will make things clear to us in time. For now, I believe we have things to discuss."

"Yes. Do you have any idea where Sidious is hiding?"

"That's the thing; he isn't hiding at all. We've been in contact with Bail Organa, and he tells us that Palpatine has continued running things like nothing ever happened. We have no clue as to what his motives may be, but he surely has something up his sleeve."

"This is tricky," I agree, "What are we going to do?"

He gives a wry grin. "Wait until he's fairly certain we're both dead--and then attack."

"Good in theory," I allow, "but he must be planning something. I think we're going to be forced to action sooner than we'd like."

"I do hope not," he murmurs.

By unspoken mutual assent, we agree that the conversation is over and turn off the links.

I mess with Threepio's proggramming for a while, trying to help him be a better fighter. It was something I'd never thought to do, and it kept me relatively amused until a while later. Padme walks in. "It's time for the transmissions on the twins, and I thought you might want to watch," she explains.

I nod, and wait to see my children.

There is my son, sleeping, eating, crying. All the things I'm missing are sent to me in pictures. A poor excuse.

Then should come my daughter. But instead of the angelic face I remember, Bail Organa appears on the screen. "Padme," he says in a low vioce full of just hidden panic, "the Chancellor brought a battalion of clones here today. He killed over five hundred people, we couldn't stop him. And...he took Leia."

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A/N:

Hey people, let me inform you why I didn't update. First, my birthday was the thirteenth. Second, a rather major literary event occured. If you were not aware of that, then I won't even try to guess what galaxy you're from. Personally I didn't like it much. I'd say three out of ten. It was okay, but the characters felt so flat--well I'm not here to deliver a review. I am speaking of course of the new HARRY POTTER BOOK. Third is the arrival of our new puppy.

So yeah, please rview, whether you loved it hated it or somewhere in between. 


	9. Chapter 9

A/N:  
Thanks for reviewing everyone! I really appreciate it! This next chapter is corny in some places, but I like it better than the last few, which I was kind of disgusted with frankly. So please review and tell me what you think.  
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"Leia?" I breathe numbly, "He's got--you mean--Leia?"

I am not aware of sitting down, of grabbing Padme's hand and pulling her down beside me. But I must have, because now she's crying into my shoulder, silent, body-shaking sobs, gripping my hand tightly.

"I'm so sorry," cries Senator Organa, losing all of his dignified demeanor, "We tried! We hid her as best we could until the last--but our army is so small--we are peaceful!" his eyes are wide with fear and pain as he continues, "We fought them, but they started killing civilians. My wife and I are under house-arrest, they say we're going to be--executed--for treason," his eyes flicker with fear as he mentions this, but the fear is gone, or buried, an imagined shadow--"They said they were taking her a safe place, but we don't know anything more--"

I break him off, "Did Palpatine come in himself and take her?" But I don't need to ask, I know he did, I know he would take her, probably crying, and soothe her, and poison her, and let her be soothed by the poison. Love her and kill her. It has always been his way.

He nods, "He came and grabbed her--said something about 'the "Organa" child needed to be saved from her parents.' I'm sure he knows, just the way he said it--"

"Of course he knows!" I growl, feeling my eyes glow with hatred "He's been searching the galaxy for her! Do you think he wouldn't know her when he found her?" I pull away from Padme, knock her hand aside, and stand up to pace in front of the projection. "You couldn't even protect one baby! You let him take her!" I rage at him, and want to release my rage.

The voice says, It's not his fault. And if he couldn't protect one baby--you killed dozens.

But I ignore it, and continue, "My daughter will die now, because your entire planet couldn't protect one baby from one old man! You worthless--"

"Anakin!" he protests, "I told you, he had an entire brigade, and they were killing civilians! We couldn't--we have a duty. To our people. One life isn't worth all that death, it isn't!"

"What is it was your wife?" I ask, shooting venom at him with every fiber of my being, "would you have just handed her over? Wouldn't you have fought if it was your wife?"

There is a seconds pause, barely audile, in which I stop, panting, brow drenched in cold sweat.

He raises his hand to his mouth, and looks down at the intricate tiles of the Alderiaan Palace. He looks up at me, a sad smile playing gently over his lips, though the last empty facade of anything but terror has long since faded from his eyes, "No," he says calmly, "not if it meant the deaths of more of our people. I wouldn't."

"Liar!" I shriek, an unhuman yell, the yell of a cornered beast, and the shadow of rage becomes too much to hold, and it pours out of me, pushing through the room, "you lie to me! Anyone--no one couldn't! You would save her, you would do anything! I know you would!"

"Anakin!" calls a voice from far away. She sounds scared, I should help her, but I can't see, everything is covered in smoke and fog.

I pour the darkness out of me, trying to find her, to touch her, for any sign she is really there--

"ANAKIN!"

And there, her voice has made a path for me, and I fight my way back, drowing, though the smoke, and there she is.

She clasps my hand fimly and pulls me down, and it is only when I see the crystal pools in her eyes that I recognize the burning sensation in my own. The tears roll down my cheek and mingle with sweat, carving a river through my stormy expression.

But when I'm almost lost again she's here to pull me back. "Anakin."

I breathe slowly, laboriously, making a concious effort with every breath. I raise my hand to my face and move it, listening to the hummings emanating from beneath the soft skin. Wretched. It is not human. I am not human. A foul thing. Machine.

I clench a fist, and unclench it. It is not real. Never can be real. A ghost. A shadow.

A soft moan escapes my lips. Leia. My beautiful girl, my angel, my star--kidnapped. Her starlight will be made to turn nova, but it will be she who chooses how.

Isn't it ironic that the biggest stars are the ones who make black holes?

I look up at the blue projection of Organa. "Thank you for alerting us," I stumble, trying to remember Jedi composure, Jedi calmness, and find I can. "I--I--have to go find Master Obi-Wan."

I push myself out of Padme's arms, and stagger out the door. The hallway I find myself in is a prism and it takes me back in and throws me back out and shows everyone everything that I am.

"Master!" I call, anguished, Obi-Wan can help, I know he can, he always could make the nightmares go away--"Master! Help--I need--Master!"

A door slides open and I lurch in, and make my way to the only piece of furniture in the room before I collapse on it, paralyzed by heart numbing fear of so many things--

"Leia," I breathe, "he's got Leia."

His eyes cloud with confusion then widen with understanding and horror. He strokes his beard, then sits down beside me. "Anakin," he murmurs, "I'm so sorry."

He puts a hand on my shoulder, and I turn away.

The room would seem silent to almost anyone who walked by, but I am a Jedi, and I hear the pounding fear that dances throughout the chamber and echoes off the walls. I hear the helplessness that radiates around me in waves and crashes into everything, becoming a panic that wanders pointlessly.

And none of it is his, because he is a Jedi, and he has no emotions.

"No you aren't," is my whispered answer, "not really. You can't really be sorry because you don't know what I'm feeling. Because you don't have feelings."

He pulls away from me as suddenly as though I'd slapped him, standing up and walking to a wall, his back to me.

"Do you really believe that?" he asks, pleads, "Is that really what you think?"

"It's true, isn't it?" I ask defiantly, daring him to say otherwise.

He finally turns around to look at me again, stroking his greying beard. "Of course not. I'm a Jedi, but I'm still human."

"But you don't...you don't love things the way I do--I'll do anything to get her home again, safe."

Obi-Wan stares at me, boring holes into me with his bright eyes. "Didn't you believe me?" he asks, an odd catch in his voice.

"Believe you?"

"On Mustafar. I said I loved you. And I meant it."

The feelings that fill me are too much--I can't deal with it right now. I'll leave it, I take care of it later, after I have Leia back.

"Then come with me. Help me get Leia back."

He doesn't answer. He doesn't need to. We walk out of the room and give ourselves to the Force, and allow it to guide us to her. As I strap myself into one of the few small Starfighters owned by the medical facility, and see Obi-Wan doing the same in his, I know that we will find her. We will.

We have to. 


	10. Chapter 10

I'm baaaack! My parents decided to surprise my brother and me with a vacation. I wasn't able to have access to a computer. I'll try to update either tomorrow or the next day to make up for it. Plus this is pretty long. I know the beginning isn't that great but I promise it gets better later on. I know there's not much interaction between Anakin and Obi-wan (sigh.) But there is a lot of Anakin and Palpatine and next chapter will have lots and lots of Anakin Obi-wan and Anakin Padme. Alright, please read and review. I love reviews.

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The landing on Corascant is relatively smooth. We decided while leaving Harrulop that this would be a good place to start looking for Leia, because Palpatine is going to have to be here to run the Senate.

It was surprisingly easy to fool the security systems coming in here. They've been run by droids the past few years because the clones are all out fighting the war. All we had to do was broadcast a radio signal on their wavelength to scramble their codes. Simple.

I'm almost happy to be out here, doing this. Obi-wan and I are working together again. We never should have been split up. If we hadn't...

No. It was all my fault. Always will be.

But if he had been there to stop me...

But he wasn't, and I did it, and I don't want to blame him. Because then I wouldn't have any friends left in the galaxy.

It feels like a lifetime since I've run a mission with Obi-wan, even though it's only been a few weeks. I guess it almost has been a lifetime. I've passed through Vader. And now Anakin is born again.

I reach out to feel him in the Force, and I am amazed at the trust I feel emanating from him. I can't understand why he would still trust me. If I was in his position, I realize unhappily, I would be more likely to kill him than trust my life to him.

But would I kill him? I don't know if I could, even if I had to.

You never thought you would kill younglings, either, I remind myself. Or leave the Jedi. Or hurt Padme. Or a thousand other awful things.

So I don't know what I would do. And I hope I'll never find out.

I step out of the small starship I was piloting and walk over to Obi-wan's and wait for him to disembark. A jedi must be calm. Calm.

But when he steps out, I find myself unable to do that.

"What are we going to do, Master?" I ask quietly, failing miserably in my attempt to conceal the urgency I'm feeling.

"I don't know," he frowns, surprised, "I assumed you had a plan when you suggested coming here."

I moan, and cover my face with my hand. "I'm not good at this strategy stuff," I mumble lamely, "you are. I thought...you would know what to do."

And I did think that. He always has, after all, about anything.

You've been taking him for granted, I tell myself sternly, treating him like he's just a thing there for you to use. Think for yourself!

"I guess we could just run into the Senate while it's in session and grab Palpatine," I suggest doubtfully, gazing around the beautiful Senate Courtyard where we landed, a soft place surrounded by gracefully curving arches and white pillars, "we could make him tell us where Leia is."

He looks as doubtful as I feel. "I don't think so Anakin. You are allowing your fear and anger to cloud your mind. Think. If we ran into a session of Senate a thousand guards would be on top of us instantly."

We could handle a thousand guards, maybe. But not a thousand guards and a Sith Lord.

I close my eyes and breathe deeply, trying to relax enough to be able to save my daughter. I want to expel the fear, but I don't know how.

Even so, as I lead myself through the early stages of meditation, I feel myself calmer.

I take this newfound clarity and re-examine the situation.

He will be expecting a physical attack. He will be ready for that.

But what if...

"Obi-wan, do you think I could trick him into giving me Leia?" I ask, "what if he thought I was still a Sith? Then maybe he would give her to me."

He looks thoughtful for a minute. "It's a good thought," he says, "but I don't think it would work out in the end. He would feel your lightside presence."

"He wouldn't have to. I could use the Dark Side. Then..." I grapple for a handhold, "then, he would have to believe me."

Obi-wan looks sickened. "You would use the Dark Side to get Leia back," he states, so it's not a question, but an accusation.

"It may be the only way I can save her, Master," I respond in a wavering voice, "it wouldn't be for real, anyway. It wouldn't hurt anything. I'd just change, a little, for a little while. I would come back," I say trying to convince myself as much as him.

He doesn't answer me immediately, instead walking across the marble platform we've been standing on to the gardens surrouding us. I do not follow.

"This is a dangerous game you want to play, Anakin," he finally answers softly, "and I cannot allow you to do it."

I walk over to where he's standing. "I am going to do it," I contradict him, "but I'll come back. You can stay here, if you want, or go back to Harrulop. You don't have to come inside with me."

He turns to face me, finally, "I think you're making a terrible mistake, using the Dark Side. I fear it will eventually use you, as Palpatine did. But I'll come with you. I'll hide, so that if you need backup, you'll have it."

I do not acknowlegde him, except to pull all the passionate feelings I've ever felt out of the hidden compartments inside of me and draw them to me and bask in the heat they give off. So nice to have warmess, fire, to escape the cold. All the love and loyalty for all the people I've ever cared for. Hatred of the sand people. Hatred of Palpatine. A longing desperation to find a home.

I feel as though I've just gotten out of an extremely uncomfortable position. Now I test the parts of me I've tried for so long to keep idle. And not it's difficult.

Here I am, Anakin Skywalker. For once myself, really. In a way I've never been my entire life. Not even trying to supress the feelings. Just being. Not carrying out Palpatine's sick orders 'on behalf of the Republic.' Just being.

The clarity is gone, and my vision of the world sinks into a foggy greyness. But I don't mind, because these newfound parts of me make it easy to push through the thick air.

I can vaguely feel Palpatine's silhouette. He's above us, about fifty feet.

I walk to the main entrance of the Senate headquaters. Obi-wan has done such an excelent job of masking his presence that I wouldn't realize he was there if I didn't keep turning my head around to look for him.

I saunter through the familiar doors and walk for about 100 feet before encountering a security clone.

"Who are you, and what is your business here?" he asks suspiciously.

"I am Lord Vader," I tell him imperiously, "the Emperor's apprentice. You will contact him immediately and tell him of my arrival." And, as I use the Force instead of allowing to to use me, it's over. It becomes less and less an act.

"I will contact him immediately and tell him of your arrival," he agrees.

He pulls out a commlink and presses a button on it. "Emperor Palpatine," he says through the white armor, "Someone by the name of Lord Vader is here to see you."

The clone seems to be listening to something, then presses another button on the link.

He turns to face me. "He's coming down to see you," he informs me, "right now."

I ignore the comment. "You have somewhere you need to be right now," I alert him.

"If you'll excuse me," he answers, dazed, "I have somewhere I need to be right now." And he wanders off.

There is nothing to do now but wait for Palpatine to come down. I dare not talk to Obi-wan, in case he would try to listen in.

It does not take long. Soon, I can see him sweeping down the great marble staircase that leads off the courtyard into the main senate hall. He is wearing black robes that cast shadow over his scarred white skin. He is a disgusting creature. A foul, baby-killing, Jedi-murdering, family-breaking Sith.

And I kneel before him. "Master," I say, "I have returned."

"Rise, Lord Vader," he commands, "where have you been all these weeks?"

A lie slips easily to the front of my mind. "I was injured battling Kenobi. I was going to die, so I tricked him into thinking I had forsaken you for him. The old fool believed me. He trusts too readily. But I cannot give up the power you have to offer me."

"Very good, my friend," he hisses, "then you can tell me where Kenobi is hidden, and we can crush the last of the attempts to overthrow our Empire before it starts."

"He is on Tatooine, Master."

"Then I shall send you to find him. You can convince him to come here, can't you? Then we can destroy him. But it will be so much more difficult that way. You must be punished for your faliure to kill him as I told you to do."

And with no warning, I see blue lightening shoot out from his fingertips and curve towards me.

Every bone in my body is on fire, every muscle. This is Mustafar all over again. I collapse to the floor and writhe in pain.

Then, as suddenly as it began, it's over. "There, now Vader. Perhaps from now on you will be more competent."

He strides away, gesturing for me to follow him. I clumsily pick myself up from the floor and stumble towards him. I can feel Obi-wan sending me waves of comfort and sympathy through the Force.

The Chancellor--my 'Master'--and I enter his chambers. They are in a small area off his office that I never knew existed. The walls are draped with black and green hangings, giving me the feeling of being underground though I know we are thousands of feet in the air.

"Well, then, Vader. You will continue your apprenticeship. I sense you will become a great Sith. Already you have more power than you did as a Jedi. When you used your anger in the march against the Jedi rebellion you opened up new gateways to your power that were never accesible to you in the past. Starting later today, we will begin to further develop those powers."

He smiles and puts a hand on my shoulder. "It's good to have you back," he says--he lies.

There is a cry from a room somewhere behind us. I tense. It's Leia, it must be Leia--

"What's that?" I wonder aloud, pretending to be only mildly interested.

"That?" he shugs, "it's the Organa child. She was taken from Alderaan when her parents were arrested. She is strong in the Force, and I was considering making her my apprentice...but now that I have you, that won't be necessary. We will dispose of her."

I feel my muscles tense at his suggestion. No, no. This isn't supposed to be happening...

"Unless you would rather not?" he questions softly, "I didn't know you had any particular qualms about killing children, my young apprentice."

I would love so desperately right now to grab my lightsaber and shove it through his chest. But I cannot defeat a Master Sith, even with the element of surprise. I must stick with my plan. I will somehow trick him into giving me Leia.

"It's not that I have any concerns about killing her, Master," I tell him, "but she could be useful. Besides, won't the public be distressed if you--killed her?"

"They would never know. Are you sure you don't harbor any emotional attachments to the child?"

"Of course not."

"Do not lie to me, Anakin. I can sense your deception. I can always sense your deception. You are aware that the child is your daughter."

I swallow. If he is aware of this, how can I ever fool him into giving her to me? "Yes, my Master," I admit, "I would very much like to see her."

"Oh, you will, Anakin, you will," he chuckles softly. "But not now. Now, you have other work to be doing."

"Excuse me, Master?" he wouldn't ask me to kill people again, would he? No...not so soon--he couldn't--

"There are many skills the Jedi would not have taught you that are essential to a Sith. First and foremost, among these, is, of course, Force Lightening."

"I understand, Master."

"I'm not sure you do, Vader," he says, resuming his use of my Sith name. "Force Lightening is more than just a skill--it's a symbol, really. I will teach it to you, but you must understand when it is most effectively used--or suffer my displeasure."

He steps over to the only window in the room, a wide window covering an entire wall, and draws it closed. The room is thrown almost into complete darkness.

"Now," he instructs me, "what you do is concentrate all the midichlorians in your body towards your fingertips. Then try and thrust them out. They won't, of course, but the reaction will create lightening. I invented the technique myself," he informs me smugly.

Reluctant though I am to give myself any further to the Dark Side, I see no option other than to follow his instructions. Startled to find the blue energy building up in my palms, I abruptly stop.

"No. Continue," he orders.

And so I try again. This time I am expecting the blue elecricity and allow it to build up just above my hand without letting it go.

"Now what?" I ask, worried by the fact that the lightening is not leaving my hands.

"Create a shield between your hands and the electricity, then use a Force push to send it off," he advises.

I do so. But when I try to hold up the shield at the same time as I thrust the cloud of power away from me, the shield breaks.

The lightning sears through my already injured hands, completely burning the thin layer of skin off my right hand. I blink, surprised, at the circuitry I'd almost forgotten was there.

"Again," he orders, "with your left hand. There will be no more mistakes, Lord Vader."

Under his eye, I am made to produce the sith lightening all afternoon, hating him more and more each time I do so. I imagine that instead of simply fizzling away on the metal floor, it burns away his face each time.

Eventually, frustrated, I ask, "When can I see my daughter, Master?"

"Soon, I think," he responds, "do it again."

This time, I throw all my fury and hatred of him into the act. The fire I thow from my palms is hot and consuming.

"Impressive," he says, "I think you are now ready to see your daughter."

The hatred and anger I feel towards him are pushed out by overwhelming relief. I'm coming. Leia.

"She's this way," he says curtly, gesturing for me to follow.

The chamber where my daughter is being kept is dark. The only light comes from a crack in the window hangings. Even in the dim light, however, I can see that it is a gloomy place to be. The floor is hard metal, as is the high barred crib she is being kept in. The pitiful bed is bare of anything soft that might make it bearable. She is awake, and I can feel discomfort and fear flowing from her, but she does not cry.

"Pain will teach her to use her power," explains the demon in a calm voice.

Doesn't he realize that his death is moments away? As soon as I have Leia, he is dead.

I reach down into the sorry excuse for a bed and touch my daughters face.

But he grabs my shoulder and pulls me away.

"We have been practicing all afternoon," he smiles, "it's time to use your new skills."

I pause numbly. What is he saying? I don't understand.

"Use what I have taught you on the girl," he hisses.

My heart beats faster. "No, I can't do that--"

"Then," he sighs, pulling out his lightsaber, "if this child will be no help in training my apprentice"--he ignites it--"then she has served her purpose. She must die."

His blade falls slowly towards her gentle face.

I immediately bring my blue sword out. The beams of energy collide.

"Oh?" he asks, smirking, "so you've changed your mind?"

"I have not," I growl, "changed my mind."

"Neither have I, Anakin. Either this child will assist me in your training, or she will be disposed of. It is your choice. Do not think of trying to duel me; you must be aware that if your 'friend' Obi-wan Kenobi could defeat you in a duel, you would be no match for me. Even if you were," he continues, "this room is hooked up to a chip placed in my heart. The instant my blood stops pumping, these Chambers will be destroyed. Besides," he says, more gently, "this will help you on your quest to the power you so desperately crave."

I lower my lightsaber just a little. I can't think of a way out of this. No matter what I do, Leia will die. Unless I do what he's asked of me.

I turn off my lightsaber, and raise my hands a little in Leia's direction, hating every move I make.

I gaze at Palpatine, trying to kill him with my gaze.

He does not even acknowledge my death glare except to move his own lightsaber so that the blade is directly above Leia's head. Any closer and the heat will burn her.

"If you try at all to stop before I tell you to," he warns in a poisonous voice, "your daughter will be dead. The same if you try to attack me. Even if by some miracle of chance you should happen to succeed, your daughter will be dead. Now. Use what you have learned."

I remember his instuctions from earlier. He must have been planning this all along. To either make me be his apprentice or to kill Leia.

He obviously knew which I would choose.

"I'm sorry, Leia," I murmer softly to the small child, "I love you. This hurts me too."

I feel the power growing inside my palms. Quickly, before it can grow to its full extent, I release it. I close my eyes rather than watch it hit my small girl's body, but I cannot prevent her cries of suffering from reaching me, the first time I've ever heard her cry.

I open my eyes before she's stopped writhing in pain. Her small body lies curled in a fetal position on the hard metal surface she is surrounded by.

It's too much. I stop shocking her and begin to advance on Palpatine. But before I've taken two steps his lightsaber falls closer to Leia's head. A gash appears on her forehead where it touches her as she screams.

"Stop!" I shriek in an inhuman voice, "Stop!" Where's Obi-wan? What happened to backup? He must not have been able to sneak into the apartments, and because the rooms are soundproofed, no doubt he is completely oblivious as to what's happening in here.

Palpatine is as cool and calm as he always is. "I will give you one more chance, Skywalker," he breathes through clenched teeth, "I will give you one more chance to demonstrate your skills on this child. If you fail, she must be unworthy to be a test subject, and I will dispose of her."

I step back to my original position on the side of the crib opposite Palpatine. He raises his saber to its original position above her forehead. "This is your last chance."

I close my eyes again and let the power build a little, but release it before it can do her any real harm--aside from pain. Once again, her wails cause my eyes to fly open and stop shooting the lightening.

"Did I tell you to stop?" he cackles, "continue, Lord Vader, or your daughter will die."

I close my eyes again, and repeat the gesture of building the power to the tiniest possible amount, over and over. It becomes a meaningless gesture, in times with my breathing. Even her shrieks seem dull and far away.

"Use your power, Vader!" cries the demon, "until you show me what you are capable of, we stay here, doing this. You are hurting your daughter more by continuing to hold this gate up against your power."

I understand what he intends me to do, but I will not do it. I will not make her suffer more than this. I continue the small blasts of lightening.

"This is your last chance," he warns, "show me your full power, or your daughter will die."

And so I do it. I destory the dam I've built and use all my hatred of this foul excuse for a man before me to push the water out into lightening. I push the full brunt of it into Leia.

What finally stops me is not the Emperor's voice. It is Leia's silence.

When I reach down into the crib frantically to check her, he does not stop me. He merely watches in silence as I feel her chest and place my hand just above her mouth.

She is alive.

"You have done well, Lord Vader," he says slowly, "by your willingness to sacrifice your daughter you have proved yourself worthy of the title 'Dark Lord of the Sith.' Now. Take this child to your ship. She has an interesting connection with the Force that I would like to follow. Wait for me in your ship. I will be there shortly."

He pulls Leia roughly out of the crib and shoves her into my hands, where she immediately breaks into sobs.

I can't believe it. I have Leia.

I cradle her gently in my arms and rubs her back rhythmatically, sending her waves of energy and love through our bond.

I walk to the front of the chambers, careful not to touch the deep gash in her forehead.

I exit the chambers and exhale a breath I did not realize I was holding.

Obi-wan is there, waiting anxiously. "You have her!" he gasps, moving quickly toward us. "But what happened to her?"

I shake my head and thrust him into her arms. "Take her. Take her back to Padme on Harrulop."

He looks confused. "Why don't you hold her, Anakin?" he suggests, "surely she's more comfortable around her father."

I shake my head bitterly with a humorless laugh. "Just take her back. Now. We both have to get away as soon as possible."

I break into a jog, heading in the direction of the starfighters, Obi-wan following me at a slightly slower pace.

We reach them soon, and I hop into mine and watch as he does the same. "Take off, now, Obi-wan," I command through gritted teeth.

I follow soon behind him. Our courses are similar in the beginning. Then I break off to the West to head for Tatooine and he continues North.

I don't know if he even realizes that I've gone.

A/N:  
If you decide to review, please tell me if you think Anakin is acting out of character. I think he is, slightly. If enough people agree with me I will do a rewrite of the second half of this chapter. 


	11. A lot of talking

After about five minutes, I hear Obi-wan's voice over the headset.

"Anakin? Where are you?"

"I'm going to Tatooine," I reply stonily, "don't try to follow me."

"Why Tatooine of all places?" He moans, though he doesn't contradict me.

"I don't know. How's Leia?" I ask abruptly.

"She's obviously not in the best of conditions, but she'll live," he answers, "what happened to her?"

"She was shocked." I say shortly, "and he burned her forehead with his lightsaber."

I take his silence as acceptance of my explanation. He probes no further on the topic, instead wondering, "how did it go with the Emperor?"

"To his knowledge, I never left him."

I break off the transmission, not wanting to hear his reply.

I land my craft near a cave in the Dune Sea after about another hour. As I step out, a wave of sand hits me, covering my face and clothes and hair. The heat is suffocating. I stumble dizzily to the cave as quickly as I can and take shelter in the shade it provides.

I slump against the cave wall, pressing myself against the cool stone as I slide to the ground.

"Hello, Anakin."

In an instant I'm on my feet, my lightsaber ignited.

"It's just me, Anakin."

"Qui-Gon?" I ask cautiously, glancing rapidly about the small enclosure.

"Yes," he answers simply, rapidly materializing into the blueish, semi-transparent form of the man I knew over a decade ago.

"I'm insane," I mutter, pressing my hands against my ears and closing my eyes, "I'm insane."

"And why do you think that?" he questions, tilting his head slightly, "you may not have the best judgment in the galaxy, but as far as I can tell, you seen sane."

"No," I tell him quietly, turning off my blade and wearily sitting back down, "I'm not. You don't know the things I've done..."

"Yes, I do," he answers firmly, "I've been watching you all these years, Anakin.."

I look up from the ground and meet his eyes. "I'm sorry Qui-Gon. You should have just left me on Tatooine. I'm so sorry for everything. I didn't mean to do any of it. I didn't. I swear. I thought I was doing the right thing."

He regards me thoughtfully for a minute. "You've grown up so much since the last time we met, Anakin. I am proud of the person you've become."

"You shouldn't be," I say lowly, "I'm a murderer."

"No," he says, as though he is speaking to a small child, "I don't think you are. You have committed the act of murder, yes. But right now, today, you are not a killer, Anakin."

"There's no difference. I murdered people. I'm a murderer."

"No, Anakin," he says loudly, spinning around so his back is facing me, "you must understand, there is a difference. You once went through the act of apprenticeship. Does that mean you are still a padawan?"

"Obi-wan thinks so."

He faces me again, this time with a gentle smile on his face. "Well, Obi-wan's a special case. But you see the difference now. Just because you once killed, were once a murderer, does not make you one now."

"I think I might understand what you're saying," I admit slowly, "but that doesn't make me feel any less guilty about..."

"It's not meant to make you feel less guilty," he says impatiently, waving a hand, "because it doesn't take away any of the guilt. You are still to blame. What I'm trying to make you undertand is that even if you were once a killer you are not one any longer. Meditate on it."

"I will," I promise. Then I ask something that's been bothering me. "Qui-Gon--how are you doing this? Appearing here? How come you haven't joined the Force?"

"That's a very good question," he laughs, "I'll do my best to answer."

"Well...?"

"When I was alive, in the sense that I had a body, I would meditate frequently. So often, in fact, that my consciousness could stay whole when it left my body. I didn't need a physical shell to contain me. So when my body stopped working...I simply left it and slipped out. Most Jedi, most people, without a physical shell, fall upart, loose form...loose self. They disolve into the Force. Like pouring a bucket of water into a river, if you will. The bucket affects the river of course, but generally only by a small amount. But everything adds up, and if enough people die, it makes the river stronger. I believe you and Obi-wan noticed that before?"

"We did," I admit, "but I thought it was Luke and Leia."

"No," he corrects me, "if anything, that would lessen the affects of all the Jedi who died reccently. The birth of your twins causes some of the power now available to be siphoned off into a body. I predict that there will be many Forcee strong children born in the next few centuries. Possibly much stronger than the Jedi of today..."

He frowns, and looks off at something I can't see.

"Qui-Gon...how come you didn't become part of the 'river?'"

His eyes loose their glazed look, and his attention is focused again on me. "When I died, it was like dropping a water balloon into the same river. It still retains it's shape and form."

"Have any other Jedi managed that?" I ask curiously.

"Mace Windu has, and a few of the smallest younglings. They tried to talk to you," he admonishes gently.

"I know...I heard them. I didn't really understand. Do you know what it was all about?"

"Yes," he says soberly, "but I can't tell you."

I ball my fists in frustration and clench my eyes shut, breathing deeply. Why doesn't anyone see fit to tell me anything?

"Anakin...?"

"Yes," I say sharply, wrenching my eyes open, "I'm fine. I was thinking...why haven't you talked to anyone before"  
"I tried," he says grimly, "no one listened. I tried to stop you when you were slaughtering that village, but you were too caught up in your own fury to listen. I tried many times to speak to Obi-wan, but he pushed me aside as his own thoughts or conscience. I tried to speak to both of you on Mustafar, but you couldn't hear."

"Can you teach us this power?" I wonder eagerly.

"Obi-wan--perhaps. You--I cannot."

"WHY?"

"I cannot tell you that either."

I stand up furiously and ignite my lightsaber. I stab at him, but nothing happens.

He starts fading away, becoming more and more transparent.

"Qui-Gon? Wait! Please don't go!" I shout desperately.

"There is no need for me to stay. I've told you all I can."

"Will you be back?"

"If I am needed..."

And then I am alone again.

A/N

Well...I tried to get it up when I said I would, but it didn't work out. Severe writer's block. Read and review, and take a look at this webpage, a newspaper article about a possible new SW. I can't figure out if it is a hoax or an unreliable paper or real. Opinions!

http/toronto. 


	12. Twelve

I'm baaaack! And with me are Anakin, Palpatine, Obi-wan, Padme (a little), and Leia (a little). I like this chapter a lot better than the last one. All comments are welcome.  
-----------------------------------------------

I step out into the sunlight, wanting to be anywhere but an enclosed space after my strange talk with Qui-Gon. I need room to rage, to fume.

I stalk back and forth in front of the entrance for a while kicking small clouds of sand and cursing angrily under my breath. Why won't Qui-Gon help me?

I am hit by a sudden wave of exhaustion and fall backwards into a small mound of sand, panting heavily.

I want to be with my mother...

With this thought vaguely in the back of my mind, I walk slowly and painfully in the general direction of my ship. It should be just beyond those dunes right there...if I can make it. Even with the suns setting. Tatooine is still an arid desert, a parched Mustafar.

I walk over to the craft, closing my eyes the last ten or so feet as sand enters my eyes and nose and mouth, choking me.

As I fumble clumsily to open the cockpit, I feel a strangely cool hand on my shoulder. I ignite my lightsaber and spin around quickly.

It's Palpatine.

I want to attack him. Is it so important to pretend to be his apprentice now? I don't know. I decide to keep up the fact till I have time to think things over more.

"Hello, Master," I say, forcing a smile onto my face.

"Anakin Skywalker," he says blankly, staring into me, "what have you done with my prize?"

"You mean Leia?" I ask through gritted teeth.

"The Organa child."

"She died of her injuries. So I decided to come here to find Kenobi and kill him." I bow slightly. "I apologize for not asking permission, my master, but I hoped to gain favor with you. I am sorry."

"Well, that will not change anything, will it?" he says softly, "liars must be punished."

I brace myself, but all the same I am not prepared for the jolt that hits me and blasts me off my feet.

I clench my jaw to prevent myself from screaming, and tighten my muscles as I writhe on the hot sand, with singes my clothes as the lightening burns my flesh. All the while he speaks to me.

"Ah, Anakin. Foolish boy. Did I not warn you? Did I not tell you I know when you lie? It is unwise to try and hide things from me. I know perfectly well where your daughter is. I don't know why you insist on putting your family in so much danger. If you had not turned your back on my apprenticeship, they could have been safe from harm...even that fool Kenobi. As it is, they will all be meeting their destiny soon. As will you."

He uses one hand to summon my lightsaber to his palm. He releases me, and leaves me panting as he examines it. "Very nicely made, I must admit. But it holds none of the grace or elegance of a proper lightsaber."

Enraged, I drag myself to my feet and charge at him. He throws me back lazily with a flick of his hand.

"It would be most unwise to attack me now," he warns quietly, "but if you will seriously consider an offer I would like to make you..."

"I'll never!" I spit furiously, charging him again and being thrown back.

"Very well," he sighs, "it is a pity though. A waste of talent. I am sorry I allowed the Jedi to corrupt your mind so long. But before I kill you, you should know that I am fully aware of where your family is hiding. They will be dead within the hour...unless you will hear my proposal."

"You don't know where they are," I glare spitefully, "and I'll never join you. So kill me."

He hisses malevolently. "Do you underestimate me so? As soon as you and that other fool stepped away from your ships tracking signals were placed on them. So unless Kenobi is kidnapping your daughter...they are stationed on Harrulop."

"NO!" I scream furiously, charging him again, "NO! You stay away from her! Leave them alone!"

With a lazy flick of his wrist, he propels me away from him again.

"I have already told you the terms under which your loved ones will be safe. You turned me down. We have nothing further to discuss."

I pull myself to my feet, leaning heavily on the ship, as he strides towards me.

"I will give you one last chance. Hear what I have to offer you."

"Tell me, then," I growl, "but I will not work for you."

"That is not quite what I had in mind," he says, stepping back slightly. "My offer is this: I will stay away from your family, and Kenobi, unless they interfere in my operations--if you will agree to help me with a project I've been working on..."

"What exactly do you mean by that?" I ask, narrowing my eyes. "A 'project?'"

"Oh? You don't accept my offer? I sensed a surge of enjoyment earlier at the same time your laughable 'dark presence' emerged. Wouldn't you like to be free from your 'friend's' relentless banter about how you must be kept feelingless?"

He's avoiding my question, I answer shrewdly, it must be something important...something he doesn't want me to know about until he's sure I'm with him. Maybe I could find out what it is and tell Obi-wan...maybe Yoda would even forgive me somehow.

"I'll do it," I lie.

"I don't appreciate your untruthfulness," he says harshly, "but I will not punish you this time. Be warned, though, Anakin, if you lie to me again, it will be fatal, both to you and to those you care about. I ask you again: will you accept my offer? I allow your life and family to live and die in peace in exchange for your help in a project I'm working on."

"Tell me about your project," I demand.

"No," he states simply.

I stare at him for a moment, trying to gleam some insight as to what he is planning and why he needs me.

"I'll help you," I tell him slowly, "but you have to let me go back and speak to Obi-wan and Padme and see my children."

"Children?" he asks quickly, a horrible spark igniting in his dark eyes.

"No," I say loudly, and, perhaps, too quickly, "just Leia. I have no other children."

"Your wife is pregnant then?" he asks with calculating eyes.

"I mispoke," I say as firmly as I can, trying to meet his eyes, "it's just Leia. No others."

He stares at me just long enough so that I know he is not entirely convinced, then shakes his head softly and says, "Very well. You will go to your 'hidden base to tell your family goodbye. And then you will meet me back on Corascant where we will discuss my project."

"Fine," I say abruptly, "but first take the tracker on my ship off."

He looks at me for half a second, then gives a false chuckle. "You don't miss much, do you, my young apprentice? This will be a great asset."

He steps over to the small green ship and walks to the right side, where he pulls something off of the underside of the right wing.

I grab it from his hand and examine every bit of it closely. It definitely is a tracker, and it was attached to my ship at about te time he claims it was. But still.

"Are there any more of them?" I ask, watching him closely to gauge his reaction, and trying to sense any hint of deception through the Force.

"No," he says calmly.

And that will have to be enough.

Not bothering to asy goodbye, I clamber into the cockpit and set a route for Harrulop.

-------------------------------------

I ask the first droid I find if she knows where Padme is.

"Of course, sir," she responds tonelessly, "she is in the medcenter."

Leia?

Without waiting to here any more, I rush off down the strange corridors. Eventually I find the right place and hurtle in.

The room is full of all kinds of droids, rolling this way and that. But all the activity seems to be centered around the right side of the room.

I push my way through the sea of silver and make my way over to Padme. When I reach her I wrap my arms around her.

"Oh, Ani," she breathes.

I look at Leia. She is connected to so many machines and cords it's hard to tell where they end and she begins.

"They don't want to have to do surgery," explains Padme tonelessly, not ceasing her gentle stroking of Leia's foot, "she wouldn't survive. It's a miracle she's alive."

For the first time she looks at me, her white face shining with tears. "What happened, Ani? How could you let him do this to her?"

"I didn't have a choice!" I say loudly, gripping her shoulders, "Obi-wan and I both agreed there would be no way for me to get her unless he gave her to me. I had to, Padme. And she didn't die. She'll be fine!"

"She did die," she whispers, "right after Obi-wan brought her back. It was pure luck that it didn't happen five minutes earlier. Luck that there was a medidroid on hand to revive her. And it'll be luck if we don't...don't loose her."

"We won't loose her," I promise fiercely.

We are quiet a few minutes, as I stare at my daughter, stare at the web of metal she's been caught in.

"Why didn't you come back with her?" begs Padme, her body shaking with dry sobs, "why did you give her to Obi-wan? What is more important to you?"

"Nothing is more important to me," I say forcefully, "Nothing."

"I know," she says quietly.

She pulls herself away from me and kneels down next to Leia, still stroking her tiny foot.

I stay too. For over an hour, just staring at them. Leia doesn't move, doesn't open her eyes. She doesn't see the constant flow of droids or her mother's tears. I try to feel her through the Force but all I get are a few wispy strands of life. I do my best to let her feel my love and affection but she doesn't accept it.

"I have to talk to Obi-wan," I say finally in a numb voice.

Recieving no response, I leave.

The halls are strangely empty and quiet. Every footstep echoes and ebbs away into nothing.

I reach Obi-wan's chambers and rap listlessly on the door.

"Hello?"

"Master, it's me."

"Anakin?" bemused. "Come in."

I step uncertainly through the door he opens and stop, shuffling my feet, unsure of what to say.

"I saw your ship," he says, gesturing out the window through which my landing place is visible, "but I thought you'd be with Padme. What happened to Leia?"

"She was burned. And then he cut her with his lightsaber. And I was with her," I say dully, "but I needed to talk to you before I left."

He reaches for my shoulder and guides me over to a soft couch. He pushes me down on it and he stands in front of me, arms crossed.

"What do you mean, you're 'leaving?'"

"Just that," I say tonelessly, "I'm going, and I thought I'd talk to you before I left."

He moves across the room and sits down on a chair opposite me. "Anakin. I know something happened other than Leia to make you feel this upset. Please tell me."

"No."

"Anakin, I thought you'd learned the lesson of hiding things."

"I have. But that doesn't mean I have to tell you everything. And Qui-Gon says hi." This will distract him, at least temporarily.

"What?" he frowns, more confused than ever.

I allow a smile to slip to my face. "Qui-Gon...he's not really alive, alive. But he's , like some sort of ghost. I think he was going to talk to you later."

A broad grin slowly spreads across his face. "Is this what you came to see me about?"

"Actually, no," I admit. "Do you have any idea where Yoda went?"

"Yoda?" he asks, grin dropping quickly, "not for sure...I have a bit of an idea, though."

"Well?" I ask impatiently.

"I don't know for sure, like I said," he admits slowly, "there were a few places council members were told to go, places unknown to anyone else, in times of need. Why do you need to know anyway."

This time it is my turn to hesitate. I don't want him to follow me on my foolhardy mission and get killed.

"Anakin?"

"Palpatine asked me to work on a project with him," I say carefully, "I thought that if I had contact with Yoda I could keep him updated on the Emperor's 'project' and he could help me sabatoge it."

"Why didn't you ask me?" he wonders, obviously hurt.

"Because I don't want to be responsible if you die." I say simply.

"Oh, and Master Yoda counts for nothing?" he jokes.

"Not 'nothing.' Just not as much as you."

He stares at me for a minute. "There has to be some way I can help you. I'm not going to sit by while you and Yoda take down this Empire."

"Well...I suppose maybe if we had some way to communicate--it would be nice."

"And you would contact me daily and tell me what sort of help you need."

"If I could talk to Padme too."

"You should talk to her before you leave," he says abruptly, lowering his voice, "when I came back with Leia and without you--" he shakes his head. "Why did you send me with Leia? Why didn't you bring her yourself?"

"I think I told you, Obi-wan, I don't want to talk about it," I growl, my voice tightening.

"I think you should."

"I don't particularly care what you think."

He steps over to the window with his hands behind his back, thinking. He turns around suddenly after about thirty seconds.

"You did something to Leia, didn't you?"

I stand up furiously, shaking with shock and anger. "What m--Why would--You--"

He studies me carefully. "Your reaction is enough to confirm that I am right."

"HE MADE ME!" I roar, "IT WAS EITHER THAT OR LET HER DIE--YOU--YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT THE SITUATION I WAS IN!"

"Calm down, Anakin."

"YOU ACCUSED ME OF TORTURING MY DAUGHTER! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE CIRCUMSTANCES WERE!"

"Then explain them to me."

His hand is once again on my shoulder, guiding me gently to the couch. I collapse into it, my momentary anger gone. He sits next to me, placing a hand awkwardly on my back.

"What happened?"

I don't answer him, but I don't leave either. I stay where I am, my breathing constricted.

Then, almost without my knowing, my eyes are wet with tears. I wipe them away furiously. I can't afford to be weak anymore.

He seems uncomfortable, but he doesn't leave either.

And then, again before I know, my body is shaking with dry sobs that tear my breath away and then ters come and fall down my face like rivers.

"I'm sorry," I gasp, "I didn't mean too. I don't want...I don't..."

And I stop talking, and stop trying to stop the tears, and forget what I was crying about, but keep crying.

It only takes a few minutes for me to finally control myself. "I'm sorry Master," I mutter, wiping my eyes with a fist.

"Don't be," he says, gently patting my shoulder.

"I should go," I tell him.

"I didn't tell you where Yoda was."

"Oh, yeah. That...um...so where is he."

"My best guess would be Degobah, in the third arm, quadrant two."

"Thanks," I say, standing up shakily and heading towards the door.

As I open it to go, he says, "Anakin?"

"Yes Master?"

"Are you going to tell Padme?"

"No."

I walk out, past the medcenter, and climb into my ship.

Maybe I should have said goodbye.

-----------------------

Please please review.

Oh and I haven't put in a disclaimer in a while. I don't own any of this. Zip. Zero. Null. Zilch. Nada. George Lucas, if you have a thing against wittle bity girls who love Star Wars, sue me, and you can have all my Darth Vader school supplies.

Review! 


	13. dreizehn

I arrive on Degobah in about two hours. I gave myself a sleeping pill and had the ship on autopilot the whole time. It keeps me from my thoughts, and, hopefully, will make it impossible for Palpatine to track me.

Degobah is a swamp, a sunken, humid wasteland that reeks of decaying flesh. Why would Yoda, one of the most powerful Jedi in millenia, come here, of all places?

Well, whatever his reasoning, his Force presence is unnervingly easy to find.

--------------------------

I arrive at his dwelling place in about half an hour. It's a small place, made of clay bricks much like Tatooine. It looks deceptively simple, but I can feel the hum and whir of technology.

He comes to the doorway without my even calling him. "Felt your presence, I did," he says calmly, "Come inside, you will."

I do not think of arguing, but follow the tiny Jedi Master as he hobble into the house, leaning heavily on his cane. I have to bend over almost halfway.

"Now," he says when we reach what seems to be the living area, a small area sunken slightly lower than the rest, "sit, and tell me why you are here you will, hmm?"

Self-conciously, I lower myself into one of Yoda's tiny wooden chairs, limbs draped all over in a pointless and unsuccessful attempt to fit onto his furniture. Eventually, after much wasted effort, I sit on the floor, instead. Yoda chuckles, but the laughter does not move into his eyes. He sits down too, though the chair fits him a million times better.

"Now, young one. Why are you here?" He speaks softly, but somehow packs more intimidation into those words than I would have thought possible. I look at my feet.

"I'd like your help," I say lowly.

He looks at me, and smiles another lie. "The Chosen One, need help he does?"

"Yes," I tell him, a little more forcefully than necessary, perhaps, "Yoda, of course I need your help. You're one of the most gifted Jedi in millenia--will--will you help me?" I feel uncertainty creep into my voice, staining what I say with a new meaning, pleading.

He looks up at me, and smiles a real smile. "Truly changed, you have. Help you to walk in the light, I will, and forgiveness you will find."

----------------------

It doesn't take long to brief Yoda on what I'm going to be doing, and to make sure we can find each other's commlink signals to talk. All too soon, I find myself on Corascant, landing in the same place Obi-wan and I landed together just hours earlier.

It's getting dark out, so late, and I am suddenly overwhelmed with fatigue. I haven't stopped and sat down and rested since I woke up this morning. I lean back in the cockpit, stretching my legs out lazily. I suppose I should let Padme and Obi-wan know I'm alright before I go.

I flip the commlink out of my pocket and turn it on, fixing the screen at my face so they'll see me.

"Hello?" I ask.

I hear a shuffling noise, a muffled voice, then Obi-wan's head appears on my screen, looking as tired and exhausted as I feel. "Hey, Obi-wan," I say, smiling in greeting.

He smiles back, a genuine smile, not like what I was getting from Yoda. "I'm glad to see you're alright, Anakin," he tells me, and I can see he's telling the truth in the warm relief flooding him. "Do you have any particular reason for calling?"

"I was just checking in, mostly," I tell him, stifling a yawn.

He grins a little. "You need to get some sleep," he admonishes gently, "you've been up all day running back and forth across the galaxy--surely that can't be good for you."

"Not yet," I tell him in a serious tones, "Listen--how's--how's Leia? Is she..."

He meets my eyes solemnly. "Anakin, I have never lied to you, and I have no wish to start now. She is holding on. There is not much more they can do for her than what they are doing now. She is too small to survive surgery, and in too grave of a condition to be moved to a place that would better suit her. All we can do now is rely on the will of the Force to guide us."

I curl up the corners of my lips bitterly. "What if I don't agree with the will of the Force?" I ask him, nearly begging him, though my voice is no more than a whisper.

He begins to look frightened. "Anakin," he says in a low, quick voice, "please--don't do anything you'll regret. Padme and your children need you--"

"And look what a great job I've done with that!" I spit furiously, "one son hiding in exile, one wife I nearly choked to death, and one daughter maybe dying in a hospital because of me--no, I think I've done quite enough for them. I will not let anything happen--"

"Anakin, I need you too!" he says softly. "You have not purposely hurt anyone. Your son is safe. Padme is safe. Leia will be as she is needed to be. I am asking you, as a friend, please do not do anything you or any of us will regret. You still have a chance to make things right. Please."

I stare at him. He's right, as he always is. Maybe I can't save Leia. Maybe the Force needs her more than I do...

But I can make this a better place for people. Most especially for Obi-wan and Padme and my children. And the first thing necessary in that process is to kill Palpatine.

I shake my head a little to clear it. "Can I talk to Padme?" I ask, forgetting the flow of our conversation.

"She's er--not here," he admits, scratching the back of his neck. "She's at a Senate session. Left a couple hours after you did."

I stare at him incredulously. "What? She left? What about Leia?" What about me? But I bite back those words and say instead, "I can't believe she left Leia."

"She didn't want to," he admits glumly, "The Senator from Correlia, whatever his name is, was going to take her, and she was going to spend the night on Correlia so she could be sure she wasn't being tracked here...Bail and I practically had to drag her away from the medcenter--I didn't think it would be safe for her to miss the session--too suspicious."

"So Leia's all alone?"

"Yes," he confirms sadly, "I'm not allowed to leave this room, unless I'm going completely off planet. And obviously she can't come here--so yes. I am sorry."

I hear something--and I feel in the Force its Palpatine.

"Obi-wan--I have to go--I'll contact you when I can--"

Without saying goodbye, I hurry to erase the signal. I step out of the ship and shiver in the cold night air--Corascant has always seemed too cold to me.

"Ah, Anakin," leers Palpatine as I hurry to hide the link in the folds of my robes. "You are somehwat later than I was expecting you."

"Am I," I say, so it's not a question, but a fact.

"You are," he acknowledges. "Would you care to tell me where you were?"

I feel a tendril of dark energy trying to reach in and probe the deep corners of my mind. I harden my walls against it as quickly as I can. Ever since I became a full knight, and was freed from the unending line of people exploring my thoughts, it has been only Obi-wan I have ever fully allowed to explore my mind, when we were a team, and it was necessary for him to understand my thoughts and intentions and for me to understand his.

And I will certainly not make the fatal mistake of allowing Palpatine to see my intentions.

His grin widens, spreading from ear to ear. "Don't want to tell your master where you've been, Anakin Skywalker? That will never do..."

"You are /not/ my /Master!" I say loudly, my eyes darting to his hands. "I agreed to help you with...whatever it is you're doing, but I am /not/ your apprentice!"

His mouth droops slightly in the corners, and his voice takes on a threatening tone. "You say that now Anakin, but I do not think you are so selfish that you would sacrifice the lives of Obi-wan or your family just to hold true to some ancient religion--how is Leia, by the way?"

Unconciously, a growl slips past my lips, making me sound more animal than human being.

He smirks, apparently at my unhappiness. "Perhaps you are interested in knowing what you signed up for?"

"Yes. Very much so."

--------------------

We go again to Palpatine's private office.

"This way, Jedi," he says, gliding swiftly to a computer screen on a table pressed against the wall.

He sits down on a luxurious velvet chair in front of the screen leaving me to peer over his shoulder. He presses a few keys and a grey 3D image pops up, rotating slowly on the spot.

"Isn't it beautiful?" he asks, pressing his finger to the screen and tracing the round outline gently. "Yes...and so powerful..."

I look at him, unnerved. Whatever could get him this happy is almost surely not good news. "What is it?" I demand.

He doesn't look up from the screen. "A Space Station...The Space Station. The most powerful space station ever created..."

He continues caressing the screen, even so gently...

He looks up at me, smiling. "I call it the Death Star. Isn't that a marvelous name? And so fitting...this station, when fully operational, will have the power to destroy an entire star system."

I learn the unpleasant feeling of having all the blood rush out of your head. Faintly, I sway on the spot, clasping my hands together to balance.

"What do you /mean?" I ask dizzily, trying to understand.

"What I said," he informs me matter-of-factly. "This station will have the firepower to destroy an entire system. Imagine it, Anakin..."

"How do you expect me to help you?" I plead desperately, searching for a loophole, anything to free me--"I'm not an engineer--or--or--anything that might help you--"

"You are a commander," he tells me swiftly, "I expect you to control the proceedings and ensure that everything goes well and is completed in a reasonable amount of time for a project of such enormity--say, 18 years or so."

"I can't--you can't make me /do/ this--"

"I think I can," he hisses softly, "oh yes--in fact--I have something to show you that will positively make you beg to be here, Anakin Skywalker."

He stands up and stalks into the public office, indicating with a wave of his hand that I am to follow him. He talks as he kmoves, black cloak waving behind him. "Interesting things were brought up at our Senate Session earlier--your name was mentioned, in fact--" He walks over to a holoprojector in the middle of the room, and flicks a switch. "Here are the complete, unaltered records of the Senate proceedings earlier this evening. But let's skip to the interesting part, shall we?"

He presses the button to fastforward, and blue ghosts dance frantically across the platform, cheering and shouting in silent emotions.

"Ah," he says, leaning forward and pressing a button, "here we are..."

The ghost Palpatine speaks, arms thrust out. "Today, we recieved more evidence of the terrible, evil Jedi betrayal. The Organa baby, who was saved from horrible abuse and brainwashing at the hands of her own parents, was brutally tortured and kidnapped from Imperial Officials by none other than the traitor Anakin Skywalker. The child's whereabouts are currently unknown, but because of the damage inflicted upon her, it is doubtful she could survive. Anyone with any information in strongly urged to come forward immediately."

The camera sweeps to face the Senate. Many of them are in tears, not trying to hide the wet dripping silently from their faces. Some look angry. One, from Kashyyyk, seems to be yelling something in Wookiee, but I don't understand.

And then there is the ghost Padme. Padme first with her eyes wide shaking her head frantically. Then Padme standing off, slapping Jar Jar as he grabs her arms. Then I see Padme, and hear her too, as she is overcome with hysteria, shrieking things I can't undertand. A ghost clone walks out from the passage behind in the passage and drags her out forcefully. I watch the Correlian box in horror as that Senator sweeps silently after.

The real Palpatine bends down and turns off the recording.

"Well, Anakin?"

Silence.

"There is nowhere for you to go. As you can see, your wife is...quite evidently not happy with you. Obi-wan has always hated you for your power--he fears it."

"Obi-wan /loves/ me!" I say forecefully.

"You still believe that?" he says, shaking his head in a pitying way. "Obi-wan has always resented you. Before, you could see it. Do not blind yourself again. Do you think he would have hesitated to kill you if allowing you to live had not benefited his in some way? He /needs/ you. Because of your power. His ultimate goal to destroy my government and form a military rule will not succeed without you at his side, my young friend. And he knows it. Join me...I can help you become greater than you have ever dreamed. Be reasonable. You have nowhere else to go Anakin. Take one step outside this building and you will be arrested, or, more likely, killed on the spot. You won't be able to help you're family much from there...it is the only way..."

"NO!" I shout furiously. "YOU'RE LYING!"

"Am I?"

I take a deep breath and calm down. "I'll stick to our original plan. I'll help you with your space station, and, in exchange, you do not harm my children or Padme or Obi-wan. But I am not your apprentice, and if you don't keep your deal--you will regret it."

He looks at me and smirks again.

As I follow him out of the room, I realize how lucky it is that I can get help from Obi-wan and Yoda. Because this time, I don't think there's anyway can do this myself.

Back-up will be much appreciated.

----------------------------

A/N:

Sorry about not updating in a while. But school and whatnot got in the way. I'll try and update every weekend. Anyway, if there's anyone out there still reading, please review! 


	14. Chapter 14

It takes a few days before I am able to find any time to contact anyone. I have been decidedly busy these past few days. Palpatine has given me living quarters in a star cruiser near the battle station, this "Death Star," which is currently little more than a giant web of metal.

Though I'm terrified of what we are building, the actual building of it is monotonous and boring. At this point most of it involves using mind tricks to convince suppliers to give Palpatine the materials he wants for whatever price he wants—a price usually around nothing. I'm told later on when the station gets so that clone troopers are actually on board, I'll be on ship with them directly supervising their construction.

What worries me most is that however carefully I study the plans Palpatine's given me, I can't seem to find any weakness, meaning that if we ever actually finish building this, the Empire's death grip on the galaxy will be strong enough that no one will dare resist. And then even if I'm _not _his apprentice, he'll still control me. He can say, Anakin, do this, or I'll destroy the planet where Luke is. Do this or I'll destroy the planet Obi-wan's on. Or Leia. Or Padme.

Padme. I _need _to hear her voice. I _need _to hear her forgive me. I need to hear she still loves me.

But that's not the only reason I need to contact them as soon as possible. I'm afraid that despite what I told Palpatine I'm slipping back towards the Dark Side. I don't want to believe it. But I feel like the hate I feel is starting to slip into me, to become part of me, to become _normal. _I hate the feeling of hate. Hate consumes me and makes me blind.

And tonight I have the chance to contact them. Palpatine is trying to convince the producer of some particularly strong plastic, supposedly a very stubborn person, to supply him with several hundred tons of his plastic at no cost. Apparently my Force powers aren't strong enough to convince him. So Palpatine's left me with nothing to do but contact my friends.

I contact Obi-wan first.

"Hello, Obi-wan," I say with a weary, but genuine smile.

"Anakin," he answers warmly. But his smile falls away quickly in favor of a more serious look. "Have you found anything at all?" he asks.

I get straight to the point. "Palpatine's building a space station," I inform him reluctantly. "He calls it the Death Star. It can destroy an entire planet."

I watch his face grow pale. His eyes close momentarily before opening, wide with shock and sick with fear. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice shaking.

"Yes," I confirm, nodding my head. "I've been helping build it."

He looks at me angrily. "You're _what?_"

I wince at the look on his face. "Obi-wan, we have a deal. I'm helping him with the station and he's going to leave you alone forever. You're safe now."

He looks disgusted. "Do you think anyone would want to have billions of people die because of them, Anakin?"

I evade the question. "It's not as bad as it sounds," I say, "I have access to all the plans for it, so that should help us find some way to stop it."

"Have you found any weaknesses in the design?" he asks.

"No," I admit, "but I'm still looking. I'm thinking we'll have to go after Palpatine sooner than later. Once he gets this ship operational, I don't see how we could oppose him."

He nods his agreement. "I definitely think a confrontation will be necessary sooner than later."

We talk for a while, making plans and discussing the future. Eventually, and with some reluctance, I steer the conversation in a different direction.

"How's Leia doing?" I ask, biting my lip as I wait to hear the answer.

He shrugs a little and wobbles his head from side to side. "She's in fairly good condition," he informs me, "she's going to be fine."

A grin lights up my features. "That's wonderful!" I say, restraining myself from bouncing out of my chair.

He smiles forlornly. "It is," he acknowledges, "but you didn't let me finish. There might be permanent neural damage, or any of a dozen other complications."

I droop momentarily, but perk up quickly. "Just 'might?'"

"As I said, there is only a possibility of any complications—" he begins. I cut him off.

"Leia's a Skywalker. She'll be fine," I say happily.

Considerably happier than I was when this conversation started, I ask, "Have you managed to see Qui-Gon?"

He nods ruefully. "I feel like such an idiot. He's been trying to contact me all these years, and I never once saw or heard him."

"What'd he say?" I ask eagerly. "Is he showing you how to become a ghost—thingy?"

"He is," Obi-wan confirms with a nod of his head. "But it's going to take years!"

"He wouldn't tell me," I say bitterly. But then, I have an idea. "Will you?" I ask hopefully.

He cringes slightly, and drops his gaze. "Actually—I really can't—"

"Not you too!" I moan. "Obi-wan—why not?"

"I don't really know," he says miserably, "but Master Qui-Gon says I _can't—_"

"And of course we wouldn't want to go against Master Qui-Gon, now would we."

"Anakin, please—"

"Let me talk to Padme," I interrupt sharply.

"Yes—" he says vaguely, "in fact—was going to—suggest—good idea—"

"Obi-wan."

He looks back up at me and his eyes are wet. I feel a sharp pang of guilt. _I love you, Obi-wan,_ I say silently, to myself. _And I'm sorry._

"She's in the medcenter still, with Leia," he says abruptly, blinking his eyes. "I'll get her."

He places the commlink down, on the desk, it looks like, so all I can see are piles of paper.

I sit perfectly still for a moment, and try to reach into Padme's mind with the Force. I brace myself for any number of unpleasant things. But where my beautiful Padme usually is, I find nothing.

Silence.

Emptiness.

At once a wave of fear sweeps over me. What have I done? Padme?

I frown. The Force still has that unusual feel I noticed right after Luke and Leia's birth. I have mostly ignored it since then. But maybe whatever has changed the Force so much is blocking me from finding Padme. Maybe…

I hear noises. A door opening, and muttering. Then Padme picks up the commlink and my angel sweeps into view.

But—it isn't _my _Padme. Her hair is matter around her face, which appears hollow and white. Her lips are dry and cracked.

But what scares me most are her eyes. Her eyes are completely empty. I can't find any emotion in her—no anger. No sadness.

Nothing.

"Padme," I say tenderly, "I've missed you."

"Anakin," she says dully.

"What have you been doing the past few days?" I ask tentatively, trying to draw her into some form of conversation.

I seems to work. Her eyes light up, and she becomes my Padme again.

"I've been with _our _daughter—Anakin—Palpatine—he said that you—" here she begins whispering, and speaking very rapidly. "He said that you _hurt_ her—and I didn't believe him but—oh, Ani, I was so stupid, but please, he _was _lying wasn't he, please, he must have been lying." She stares at me, and she's still my Padme, but she's afraid, she's scared. I can see that despite her claims to the contrary, she _does _believe Palpatine at least partially.

I could lie. I want to lie, so badly. But I don't. "Padme," I say slowly, "I _had _too—"

She looks at me—looks _through _me—with a mask of horror clouding her eyes. She shakes her head. "I don't know you. You aren't my Ani. My Ani would _never—_"

"Padme, please!" I beg desperately, "I _love _you!"

"I know," she says, withdrawing into herself again.

"You don't understand," I tell her, "it wasn't how you think it was—if you'd let me explain—"

"I don't need to hear the details of what you did to my daughter, Anakin," she says listlessly. "I don't want to hear it."

"Please, Padme, let me— I _love _you—"

"If you care anything for me, or your children, then never come near us again."

"Padme—"

"Goodbye, Ani," she says. The connection breaks off.

I lean back in my chair, all happiness dissolved.

I feel the same hollowness she was showing. I need Padme. I need her to love me.

I sink down, suddenly exhausted.

I can't go on like this for much longer. I have to kill Palpatine, and soon.

Next thing I know I'm being shaken awake by a clone trooper. "Lord Vader, sir. The Emperor has returned, and he commands you report to him at once."

With a feeling of infinite dread, I dismiss the clone and shake myself awake. Slowly, I head down the hall towards his offices aboard the ship and wonder what I'm in for now.

**A/N**

**As you can see, my MS Word is working again. We now have bold and italics! Yay!**

**Anyway, sorry for lack of update last week but I was grounded from the computer for being a 'smart mouth.' Anyway, the next part of this story will be posted later today to make up for it. Please review, it means a lot to me. I know a lot of you have probably lost interest in this story due to slow updates, but it would be really awesome if these next two chapters sent the review count over 200.**

**Padfoot**

**Oh, and also—would anyone be too terribly upset by the death of a major character? That's kind of what I was planning on happening, but if you all are too upset by that I can revise it.**

**I know not much happens in this chapter, but I personally like it and it is setting up for the final climax which is coming up soon. **


	15. Chapter 15

I step apprehensively into Palpatine's chambers. He is sitting in his high-backed chair with his face towards the window.

In many ways, this feels like one of the times that I would come to his office on Corascant and tell him about Obi-wan or Padme or anything, really. And I would believe he was my friend.

It's different though. He doesn't look out onto speeders racing through the Corascanti atmosphere or the high, elegant buildings, but onto the vast emptiness of space. And when he turns to face me, I'm able to recognize the icy chill emanating from him. And when he speaks, his face is distorted and his voice is hoarse and cracked.

"Hello, Anakin," he says, in a feeble imitation of a kind voice, "I hope you were able to occupy yourself in my absence."

I shrug my shoulders and tilt my head. "I slept most of the time," I invent easily.

He chuckles a little. "There's no need to lie to me, Anakin. I can sense everything you do."

I ignore his comment, and hoping to change the subject, ask, "How did your purchasing go?"

His face darkens abruptly, and he frowns. "The man simply was not receptive to my attempts at persuasion."

Good for him! I cheer silently.

"I was forced to pay much higher than I should have," he continues. "I'm going to have to raise taxes to cover the cost of the death star."

Well…that's not good.

"On a different note," he continues coolly, "One of my clone-troopers has informed me you were…rather _bored_ during my absence, and may have reverted to old habits. I must advise you Anakin, if this repot turned out to be true, I will be not at all pleased. So I've come up with a different plan. My end of the bargain still hold up, your dear family is safe, but I've decided that _you _would be more useful elsewhere. How would you feel about recruiting?"

"Excuse me sir? Recruiting for—_what?_" I stammer.

"The Royal Imperial Army, of course," he says smoothly, the edges of his mouth curving upwards. "The clone wars have shortened our supply of clones greatly, and we need new Forces to quell the remnants of the Separatist movements, and to prevent any rebellion. Your task will be to travel around the galaxy, visiting about one planet a week, and recruit a set number of citizens. I will expect you to meet my quotas, Anakin, or I need not hold up my end of the bargain."

"With all due respect," I say, thinking quickly, "wouldn't it be easier to just make more clones?"

"Nonsense," he says, his face rapidly darkening, "it would take much too long, and besides—we do need _some _proof of the loyalty of some individual systems, do we not?"

You need proof, maybe. Not me.

"But won't they recognize me?" I wonder aloud, "And I'm supposed to be a criminal—they won't understand the person you just publicly denounced is recruiting for your cause now, I don't think."

"No, they won't," he concedes, "and so I've had my clone technicians create a suit of armor for you to wear. It will mask everything about you, even your voice…its quite imposing, all in black, and will probably help you in your task. I'll have them bring it in now."

He presses a button on the seat of his chair, and it seems to be an intercom. He says, "JF471822, report to my office with the recruitment suit I had you construct."

He turns his chair around so the back is to me. I stand in place, fidgeting a little, but quiet. In about three or four minutes, the clone walks in, wheeling a table with him.

On it is the suit that Obi-wan showed me, the one Sidious was planning to put me in if he found me. The mask is hard and terrifying and the cape gives a menacing look to the outfit. It's slightly less bulky than the one Obi-wan and I saw, without the chest panel, but its undoubtedly the same design.

"There…I doubt you'll be recognizable in this."

I doubted it too.

He orders me to return to my chambers, change, and report back to him. I do so, slowly. The suit makes me feel horribly claustrophobic and weak. My senses are blocked. I see through a red tinted plate of glass, I breathe through a metal grid, I hear with the help of microphones.

I push into his chambers without knocking. He spins his chair around quickly to face me. "Ah, Anakin, it's you."

I nod my head. "Yes."

My voice is low and harsh. It's nothing like mine. I panic.

"What happened?" I ask furiously, trying to push my voice back to where it was.

He shrugs. "Your voice is recognizable. You've been on the holonet more than you realize these past few years. Anyway, here is the outline of your task."

He extends a hand with some file in it. Reluctantly, I stride forward and take it.

"This has all the information you'll need," he informs me matter-of-factly. "The order I expect you to visit the planets in, when you'll need to update me, how many people we need, where to put them, and so forth."

I nod my head in understanding, and without saying anything, march out of his office.

A/N:

Well….obviously this chapter didn't get up when promised. But I have the rest of it planned out, we have maybe six chapters and an epilogue to go, but they should go fairly fast. The next chapter _might _be up today, I'm about halfway done with it, but I'm worried things are moving too fast. I know nothing really happened in this chapter, but it was important, and I'd still like reviews. The incredible response last chapter made me very very happy. I know I'm not allowed to do individual review responses but someone commented on how it was all from Anakin's point of view? Yeah, I got really bored of him about chapter three, but for the sake of continuity I've stuck with him even though Obi-wan and Padme have some neat stuff to say, I think. But you know this was going to be a oneshot…it just _isn't._

Sorry for the long and boring authors note. Please review even if you just type slkdjgsjdhg or something like that. Makes me very very happy. Yeah, I'll shut up now.


	16. Chapter 16

I spit a mouthful of sand through the metal grid that covers my mouth as I push my way through the beginnings of a sandstorm and into my craft.

"Let's go, Artoo," I cough.

He beeps a reply, and the ship takes off. Soon, we are hovering above the swirls of sand sweeping the surface.

Tatooine was the first place he ordered me too. It was easier than I thought it would be. The quota was low and there are dozens of people sunken so far into poverty they'll do anything to get out, no matter who they're fighting for. And the ones I recruited who don't really need the money were happy to be serving the Republic, even if Tatooine's presence in the Republic is wholly symbolic.

I finished early, and so I don't have plans to check in until tomorrow.

Idly, I flip through the file to see where I'm slated to go next.

Naboo.

Frustrated, I groan. I bring my hand up to my head and meet the hard metal shell that's been covering me since last week when I left to start out. Palpatine did _something _to keep me from taking it off, though I don't know why. All it's really done so far is irritate me to no end.

_Padme will kill me if she finds out I'm recruiting people from her home planet to fight for Palpatine, _I think miserably.

_She won't be around to kill you if you don't, _I reprimand myself sternly.

Maybe I should contact her. I haven't spoken to her since before I left. It's partly because I don't want her or Obi-wan to see me like this, but mostly because I'm afraid of what she'll say to me. I want to tell her what I did, I want her to forgive me, I need her to love me—but what if she wouldn't?

I decide now that there will be no more excuses. I pull the comlink out from under my chair and flick it on.

"Padme?" I ask tentatively, trying to force my voice to its original state. "Obi-wan?" Anybody there?"

There's a fumbling noise and then Padme's face appears, tired and worn. Her dull eyes look panicked and terrified when she sees me. "It's me, Anakin!" I reassure her quickly. "Padme—don't panic—it's really me." I reach across the millions of miles and find her. I send comfort and reassurance to her that I'm telling the truth. I hate to have to use the Force to manipulate her, but if she won't even believe this, then how can I get her to trust me again?

"Okay, Ani," she says blankly. Then her face clears up a bit. She seems happier to see me than she was before.

"Are you and the babies okay?" I ask hopefully.

"I'm fine," she says, "but Leia's still recovering. I still get daily updates on Luke, and he's getting so big." Tears well in her eyes, but her face hardens quickly. She bites her lip and wipes her eye roughly with the back of her palm.

"Ani," she begins hesitantly. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you about Leia—I guess it wasn't really fair of me to just believe Palpatine without listening to you at all."

"I don't want to talk about it," I say stiffly.

"Ani, please," she begs, tears glistening again. "We _need _to talk about this. I don't want to either—but I have to _know_. Just—just say yes or no, and then we can stop talking about it, but I have to know."

"Fine!" I cry desperately, "I did it! Is that the answer you wanted? Is that what you wanted to hear? But if you'll listen—"

"No—"

"I don't give a _damn _Padme—you _listen to me._ I _love_ you Padme—at least hear me out."

Tears are streaming freely down her face now and I regret yelling at her. She's scared. She's confused. I did nothing to make her think I'm anything other than a child torturer.

But she isn't being fair, either.

"Palpatine _made _me do it—" I snarl furiously, "he was going to _kill _her. How do you think she got that burn on her head? He had his lightsaber right over her and he would have killed her if I hadn't—done what I did. Do you think I don't regret that?" I continue ranting, "do you think for one minute I don't wish I never had to do that—"

Her eyes are sparking now. "You did it to the other children! The younglings at the Temple—"

"I didn't mean to!" I howl, clenching the commlink in a tight fist. I pull back my foot and kick forcefully at the side of the ship. The thick material combined with my metal leg is enough to dent the hard metal wall.

I stare at the small dent momentarily. I didn't know I could do that.

I groan out loud and push my head against the seat.

"Padme, I'm sorry I yelled," I apologize remorsefully, "but I need you to understand. I did not want to hurt Leia. I _love _our children. I love _you_."

She nods her head. Her face is white and she looks frightened.

"Padme, Angel, I really am sorry," I plead, "I would never ever hurt you—"

You already did, I remind myself, On Mustafar. You could have killed her.

"I didn't mean to get angry," I try to explain. "I feel so trapped. There's nothing I can do right now without Palpatine's permission."

"Then _kill _him!" she begs, "Ani, please, _kill_ him."

"I can't," I admit, "I'm not strong enough. I need to sneak Obi-wan and Yoda in here somehow—maybe the three of us together can take him, but I can't." I look down at my feet gloomily.

"Anakin, you know I love you?"

"Of course."

"And I know you love me—but please don't do anything—don't kill anybody for me."

I look at her and say nothing.


	17. Chapter 17

I've been on Naboo for five days and I've barely filled a quarter of my quota.

I'm in Theed and it's two-o-clock in the morning, local time, and I am panicked.

This is more difficult than I could have imagined. Maybe my easy success on Tatooine made me complacent, but I don't think so. Mind tricks aren't exactly my best area. And Naboo's queen right now is conservative, and many of the people here are pacifists. Add to that the fact that Naboo has a very rigorous mandatory education system, and it seems nearly impossible to persuade any of the Nabooians to my cause.

Furthermore, I'd been instructed not to use any physical coercion. I was allowed to use mind tricks, threats, almost anything—but I was not allowed to cause any physical harm to the would-be-soldier.

"Sir, your life and the lives of your family may depend on your service of the Republic," I informed the man, who looked to be about sixty.

He shook his head defiantly, glaring at me with piercing grey eyes. "I am not going to be part of another war. I lost a brother in your last damn war, and I'm sure as hell not going to leave my wife and son to fight in this one."

I resist the urge to reach out and grab hi neck, clench it with metal hands until his worthless neck snapped. "You have no choice," I fume. "The galaxy depends on having able and willing volunteers like yourself."

"I'm not quite sure where you get the idea that I'm _willing._ My family has always been opposed to your kind of thinking and I'm not going to turn my back on that now."

I roar with frustration and anger. How can he stand there, so calmly writing off the lives of Padme and Obi-wan and Leia? Doesn't he care that the three most important beings in the galaxy will die if he and his planet don't try?

Furiously, I push him through the doorframe back into his home and slam the door. "You three can consider yourselves prisoners until your planet meets the quota of the Empire," I inform him bitterly, back in control. I don't think Naboo will let three of its citizens die.

The man looks to his wife, standing behind him in a doorway. Her face is pale and her grey hair tangled.

He looks away from her and, with a cry of utter hatred and contempt, throws himself at me.

I clench my fist and he stops mid-jump, clutching at his throat. His wife screams and turns white. Upstairs, a baby cries. "It is _useless _to attack me. Trying it again will get you killed," I warn coldly, before throwing him to the floor. He pulls himself up, panting, and spits at my feet.

I ignore this and watch as his wife crawls towards him and wraps her arms around him. "Werdol, don't…please, don't be stupid," she begs.

I gaze on impassively and he pulls himself to his feet. "The people of Naboo are not so easily bought," he declares proudly, before breaking into a coughing fit. After it subsides, he speaks again, sneering. "They will not change their principles because of threats. I am proud to die in the name of peace."

There are tears falling rapidly down the woman's face.

"Upstairs," I command.

The man gives me a spiteful glare before throwing his arm around his wife's shoulder. "It's alright, Yausta," he says gently and they walk side by side up the narrow staircase.

I follow behind, and direct them into the room where the baby's cries are coming from. The woman, Yausta, immediately glides to the crib in the corner and grabs the baby, holding him close.

Against my will, my heart clenches at the sight of him. I've only seen my own son once in his life.

I use the Force to send the three of them into a deep sleep. They won't wake up at anything for hours.

Satisfied, I hurry from the room and bolt it shut from the outside.

I am surprised to find my own breath coming in short, cold gulps and myself dizzy. I sink to the floor, the coarse material of my cloak making a scraping noise as it rubs against the soft blue paint of the wall.

I turn on my the comlink. "Obi-wan?" I ask tentatively, "Padme?"

There is no answer.

Frustrated, I storm downstairs into the kitchen. The colors, pastel walls and pine wood, tries to be soothing but really just aggravates me because it doesn't reflect anything real.

The home feels surprisingly unlived in; there are no pictures on the walls; no telltale scuff marks or dings in the immaculate, cloudlike furniture.

I move from room to room, considering what to do once my—_prisoners,_ I guess you'd call them—woke up.

Obviously I'll have to contact the Nabooian government, tell them to meet my quota or I'll kill the family. I _think _they'll listen. I _hope _they'll listen. The thought of killing these people sends a nauseous wave over my so that I sit down in the nearest chair, very still, and hold my legs to my chest.

I _could _do it. It would be easy enough; none of them could fight me.

But also…I can't.

I wonder if this is even allowed. Or do Palpatine's rules forbid it?

Maybe he'll kill them anyway.

"Anakin?"

Clumsily I shove my hand into my pocket and grasp for the comlink. I want to weep with relief when I see Obi-wan's face on the screen.

"Master," I say, my voice thin and wobbly, "I did something bad."

I sound like a ten year old padawan about to confess stealing a piece of candy or something.

He looks at me thoughtfully and says nothing.

A confession pours out of me before I can think to stop it. "I kidnapped three people," I blurt, "A couple and a baby, and I'm going to make Naboo meet their quota or I have to kill them."

"Wait—what quota?"

I quickly explain to him what I've been doing the past two weeks. When I've finished, his face is as white as mine. "Anakin—you can't—you shouldn't be doing this," he trembles, "you're making an _army_? For—_Palpatine_? Anakin—no. He'll kill everyone—you can't let him, you can't help him. Free those people you have—"

"Master, if Naboo doesn't make the quota, you and Padme and Leia will die. And if he finds out where Luke is, Luke will die too."

"Anakin, that doesn't matter, not compared to the trillions of beings who will suffer if you help Palpatine make an army."

I look down at my hands, unable to meet his eyes. "If you want to die, Obi-wan, that's your choice. But Luke and Leia and Padme—"

"Do you really think for one instant that Padme would want anyone to die so she could keep living?"

_Don't kill anyone for me._

"I have to," I say hoarsely, "Master—you know I've killed people already, I know you do. And I did it for Padme. So if I don't make sure she stays alive, it all will have been for nothing."

He looks at me silently for a minute. Once again, I find myself unable to meet his piercing stare and direct my gaze instead to a very interesting tile design.

After a while he says, in a calm, unshaken voice, those his face reflects the turmoil he must surely be feeling, "The Organa's were executed today. It was very highly publicized, on nearly all the channels. They were executed," he says deliberately, "for crimes against the state. What was being 'accomplished' by the deaths was a stronger Empire. If the Empire were to collapse tomorrow, would that mean the deaths were worthless?"

"I'm sorry, Obi-wan," I apologize, biting my lip. "But I can't kill Palpatine alone, and he'll kill _me _if I don't do what he tells me. So—I have to do it. I'm trying to figure out a way I could sneak you up here so that we could attack without Palpatine knowing, but I haven't thought of anything yet. But when I do, I swear we'll kill him, and then I won't have to do it anymore."

He sighs deeply. "Then come up with something soon."

"I will," I promise earnestly. "Obi-wan—I don't _like _doing this. I don't _enjoy _it. But I don't see another way. I'm protecting all of you and making sure I'll be able to kill him."

"I know." He closes his eyes momentarily. "Anakin, its late, and we both need sleep."

"I know. Before you go though, Leia—?"

"Still recovering. They're doing preliminary scans to check for brain damage, but the results aren't back yet."

"Okay. Don't wake Padme, I'll speak to her in the morning."

"Goodnight, Anakin. And please, do be careful."

"I will. Goodnight, Obi-wan."

**A/N:**

**Once again, I am guilty on missing my self semi-imposed deadline. No excuse, I was just lazy. Will try to remedy that problem by getting a chapter up by Wednesday. **

**Hope you like this chapter. It will move faster after this I think. My only concern is that Anakin is getting to be out of character, opinions on this would be much appreciated. I tried to make him seem like a desperate, panicked person in his actions, but obviously talking to Obi-wan calmed him down quite a bit.**

**To answer one of the reviews, I don't know quite how Palpatine got the Vader Suit to stay on Anakin, but I am sure there is some sort of technology in our favorite galaxy far far away like that.**


	18. Chapter 18

**AN Part I**

**Come on! Can't anybody guess who these people are? Oh, well. By the end of the chapter you'll know. I was going to delay the info till later but I thought some people maybe were quitting reading cause of my OCs.**

The Naboo sun rises early, sending waves of soft orange light filtering through the windows. It edges along every crack and crevice, finding small gaps to fill, places to hide in the empty house that I didn't know existed.

The woman wakes up first, I think. I hear thumping and banging in the room, and hurry up to see what the problem is. "Let us _out,_" says the woman, "at least—my son. Please. My son, he hasn't done anything, he's a baby! You can't hurt a baby!"

I slide the bolt open and crack the door. Tentatively, I poke my head in. The woman rains blows on my head as her husband in the corner struggles to stand.

Furious and a little scared, I grab her wrists and tug her out. "Now—" her husband begins to say something as he pulls himself towards the door. I bolt the door, just quickly enough because a moment later I hear his body slam against the hard wood and a little moan of pain. "Yausta?" he calls anxiously, "Yausta, are you there?"

"I'm fine," she says, her voice wobbly with fear. She closes her eyes a little and bites her lip, and I relax my grip ever so slightly. She is an older woman after all, and I wouldn't want to hurt her.

I pull her down to the kitchen. She puts up every bit of resistance she has, but I pull her easily into a high backed wooden chair and force her into it. "Sit," I command, the voice that is not mine growling out the words for me.

She trembles and bobs her head. When I move my artificial hands away, she rubs her arms, already beginning to bruise. "I want to call my daughters," she says softly, looking at her wrinkled hands.

I turn and look out the window.

This woman is old. If she doesn't die directly because of me (Force don't let that happen) she might get a heart attack or something from stress. I should let her speak to her family.

"No," I say harshly. "They'll see you when you broadcast my demands. There's no need."

"Please—"

I do not answer. I pivot swiftly on my heel and lean forward so that my face is about two feet from hers. I shudder involuntarily at the fear in her face. _She is afraid of you. You did this._

I move back, trembling. "Can I at least get the baby?" she squeaks, wringing her hands.

I frown and consider. I don't want to leave the child by himself without his mother. On the other hand, I don't want to give the couple a chance to communicate.

"I'll retrieve him," I say hastily, before I can think things through too much. "But I expect to find you in the exact same spot when I return. If you aren't—I am armed. I will know if you move. I can use the Force."

Her dullish eyes widen, with what I can't tell. Disbelief, understanding, curiosity—I don't know. Maybe everything. "Are you—are you a _Jedi?_" she inquires in a hushed tone, "I knew there was an uprising, but—"

I glare at her for an instant, disgusted, then abruptly move away. "No," I say, seemingly indifferent. "I am _not _a Jedi. I have never _been _a Jedi. I never will _be _a Jedi. The Jedi were _good people." _

My voice rises in volume as I speak, until I'm shouting at the end. I breathe deeply, inhale exhale, before marching up the stairs, listening to the creak and crack of the wood as my stiff metal legs pound into it.

I pause at the top and feel for the woman in the kitchen. She sits in the same place, tense and trembling. Satisfied she won't try to run away, I turn to the room once again and unbolt it.

I walk in all the way this time. But this time it is the man who throws himself at me. My reflexes are slower from lack of sleep. With a feral yell, he jumps at me and slams his fist into my stomach and neck before I reach out with the Force and toss him to the side where he lays groaning with pain for a minute and then falls still.

Calmly, I walk to the corner where the man was huddled before I came in. A bundle of blankets pokes a fist out and shrieks with anger, or hunger. Gently, I reach down and scoop the child up. Urgh. He needs changing.

The boy's eyes meet my own, startlingly blue and piercing. I scowl furiously and look away. I can't kill you, I can't, I can't, don't make me!

Roughly, I push the child to my side. I dangle him in one huge mechanical hand. He shrieks so loud and long I feel my eardrums pulsating with it. I fairly run back to the mother. When I enter the room though, she jumps out of the chair and runs to meet me, snatching the boy from my hands.

"Do you even care?" she says, sounding genuinely curious, "Do you care, one bit what happens to us?" She plays with the baby's fingers as she speaks, and his wails quiet to shuddering gasps.

"Of course I care," I snap, "That's why I'm holding you for ransom instead of killing you outright."

She ignores me, choosing instead to answer her own question. "No, you don't care, do you?" she muses thoughtfully, her voice croaking out each individual syllable "You couldn't. You're a monster. But I suppose it can't be _entirely _your fault. They do say…"

Behind the mask, I feel my face twisting. I am _not _a monster. I'm just protecting my family, like you would! I am _not. _

She moves towards the cabinets, and impulsively, I sweep after her.

She doesn't even turn around. "I need to feed him," she says calmly, reaching up with one hand and grabbing a jar of baby food.

"You'll need to ask my permission for that."

"I am going to feed him."

"_Later. _We need to make our broadcast now."

"You mean _I _need to make _your _broadcast," she says spitefully.

"Say it however you want. It doesn't make a difference. You can eat later. Sit _down._"

She drops the glass jar to the floor where it shatters into a mountain of glass shards and mashed food. As she squeals and darts toward her vacated seat, the boy wails and shudders, gasping for breath every so often. The frail cries fall into me. Luke…What if someone was doing this to Luke?

Someone _could _do it to Luke if I don't do this right now.

Padme, Obi-wan, I'm so sorry. Luke, Leia…I'm sorry. I won't let them hurt you, I promise. I love you all. I _do._

Each scream is like a knife, reminding me how awful this is. I shouldn't have to do this! A solitary tear falls from my eyes, thankfully hidden by the mask.

I want to scream right along with the child, I want to be able to solve everything by howling, I want to be young enough to vent my frustration like that. I want to cry forever and melt away into my own mothers arms.

_Anakin!_

**_Qui-Gon? _** A mixture of relief and new anxiety. I don't want him to see me like this. But I guess this isn't really any worse than anything else I've been doing the past month or so. **_I don't know what to do. I can't kill them. I don't want to. But then I have to. Please tell me what to do._**

I realize from the look of horror on the old woman's face that I am speaking out loud. I don't care.

_I cannot tell you what to do. Use the Force as your guidance. Feel the Living Force, you will see what must be done, before the end._

_**The end?**_

_Anakin…you are still a Jedi knight. Don't be afraid._

**Qui-Gon?**

But the connection is broken and I am alone once again.

"What—what do you want me to say?"

Who's speaking? Vaguely I turn to the direction of the voice, but it's no one, just the woman who's giving me a choice I don't think I can make.

I pull out my holopad and begin typing.

_My name is Yausta_

"What's your last name?"

"….Limantay."

_Limantay. I have been a loyal citizen of Naboo for many years. Last night my husband, son and I were assaulted in our own homes by a monster who claims to have no political loyalties or loyalties to any particular state, but instead has his own agenda. It is his wish that Naboo meet a quota of 1 billion citizen to join the Imperial Army, an organization he_

"Will you please shut that baby up? I'm trying to write."

"Hush, little one. Hush."

The sobs continue, and instead of wanting to join them, I am tired and weak from the sound of them. It would be so good to go to sleep. Just sleep….

I need him to quiet down!

I reach out through the Force and feel for his mind. It is so young it does not seem to recognize me for what I am, allowing me to enter and send feelings of comfort and peace. He quiets down almost immediately, falling into a peaceful sleep.

"Much better."

_wholly approves us. Please help, Citizens of Naboo! He will kill us all if his demands are not met quickly. My son is an infant, not yet a year old. Please do not let your personal feelings cause the death of this child. I cannot tell you where I am located, and the camera recording and transmitting this is set so it s untraceable. I will be released along with my husband, who is upstairs, injured, and my son, when the demands are met. Please do not force us to die!_

Silently, I push it to her. She reads it, bites her lip a little, and turns to me.

"I will not beg for my life."

"You _will _unless you want to be dead, and your son with you."

She nods silently. She believes me. Maybe it's because I'm telling the truth? Force, no…

I set the recording equipment up. She stares straight into the lens and speaks, stumbling a little as she speaks about her son. As I move to turn off the recording device, which has been steadily broadcasting to the Queen in Theed, I see she is still speaking.

"Please, my darling daughters…if you see this—I love you so much—Tell the kids I love them too. I hope to see you again. My dears…Sola, Padme, darlings, your father and I love you so much…"

Oh, no.

**AN Part II**

**Once again I have been very late in my delivery of these chapters. A who week! Wow, a new record. Is the theme of Anakin inadvertently hurting family getting old? I hope not, because this is necessary to what will happen at the ending. So please bear with me for a while here, this particular bit shouldn't be overly long. Long weekend coming up, too. Please review. If we keep going with the pattern, they should skyrocket this chapter. You reviewers are the best thing ever ever ever and I love you all to bits. Please please review because you are te greatest ever. I tried to make this a bit more darker without getting over dramatic, and I have decided to give it a happy ending because its been so darn angstful all along.**


	19. Chapter 19

I reach across the table and grab the recording device, covering the lens with a finger and shutting it off.

"What did you say?"

"I just wanted to say something to my daughters—please, I didn't mean to—"

"No, what were their _names?_"

"Padme and Sola."

"No—no—you're making this up—you—"

She looks up at me defiantly. "Why would I make that up? I have two daughters, Padme and Sola, and I love them."

"Shut _up. _Oh, you're lying, you must be, you can't be telling the truth—Padme's parents are supposed to be with Luke—but maybe I'm over thinking this—those are probably common names and—oh—if you are—Padme's going to kill me—"

I pace back and forth, clawing at the black metal suit.

"You have no daughters," I hiss, my voice low and deadly.

She frowns, confused. "I _do. _Sola and Padme—"

"You have no daughters!" I shriek, loosing control. I pick some book off the counter and hurl it at the ground in front of her feet.

"I don't have any daughters!" she amends quickly, hugging the child closer, "I promise, I don't have any daughters! Don't hurt us."

I relax. She doesn't have any daughters. How could she be Padme's mother if she doesn't have any daughters?

Except what if Padme sees it? She hasn't heard what I have. She doesn't know. She might still think these are her parents.

"If I _ever _hear you so much as say those names again—I promise, you _will _regret it. From this point on, if you have ever had any child beyond—_this—_you don't anymore."

"I understand," she says softly, looking at the small boy in her arms.

These can't be Padme's parents, they can't, they can't.

The woman sits across from me and begins feeding the infant with a trembling hand. I study her face carefully. I met Padme's parents once, several years ago when I was still a padawan. This doesn't look anything like the woman I remember.

My breathing slowly resumes its normal rate as I convince myself I must be mistaken. Maybe this woman does have children named Padme and Sola, but she isn't Padme's mother.

She can't be.

Because, if by some freak chance she was, Padme would fall away from me like leaves from an autumn tree.

I think I realize something about myself, now. It isn't enough to save people. It isn't enough knowing that Padme's alive, or the twins, or Obi-wan, if I don't have them _with _me.

I can't bear thinking that all the deaths in the Jedi temple, the children who traipse through my dreams and laugh at me in waking, were for naught. I don't think I can take it if it turns out I've become Vader just to loose it anyway.

And so, you see, it is _necessary _that this woman is not Padme's mother. For the Republic. For the Republic it is necessary. And so, quietly, hushed, I accept it. For the mangled corpse of the Republic.

The edges of my mouth turn up in a relaxed smile. I will have my family. I will have the Republic. Everything _will _be fine in the end. _It will._

I am brought out of my relaxing trance by a yell and a scraping noise from upstairs and a sudden upsurge in the thick undercurrents presence in the Force since all the Jedi died. The woman jumps abruptly up from where she was feeding the baby from a balloon like container filled with blue milk, and begins to shout very rapidly, in what I assume is Nubian, before placing the infant on the table and scampering towards the narrow doorway. I storm after her, grasping at my connection to the Force to pull at her, slow her down. But the Force seems resistant to my attempts to manipulate it.

Maybe it has too much Master Windu in it.

Even so, it takes me less than three long strides to grab the woman by the neck. I wrench her around. "I thought I _warned _you—" I hiss, feeling on the brink of hysteria, "I don't _want_ to _kill you."_

"My husband!" she wails, tears dripping from her eyes, "I must see him—my dear Ruwee—oh, Ruwee, you said you would wait for me—Ruwee—oh—Oplaass cuplea, oplaass derint baathssir—Culpea, Culpea, derint—" she slips into a long string of unintelligible Nubian.

By this time I've released my grip on her neck, but she, huddled in a heap of cloth and flesh on the floor, seems not to notice.

The desperation in her voice is enough to frighten me, too. If this were Padme's mother—which it isn't—I would want her to be allowed to go see her husband, make sure he's okay.

"Go," I urge, prodding her with he Force, which seems much more compliant to this course of action.

"I will go," she says monotonously, grabbing a railing and hauling herself up the stairs, me close on her heels.

She stops outside the door and waits patiently for me to work the lock and slide it open. The only evidence of her breakdown is shaking hands and a terrified Force presence.

We open the door. The woman takes one look at the sight we are greeted with, screams, and falls on the floor, sobbing hysterically. "Ruwee, Ruwee," she moans, crawling towards him, "Oh, derint Ruwee—"

The man is lying on the ground with a shattered vase beside him and blood pooling around his wrists.

I roughly push her aside. This can't be happening—why didn't I consider that they might commit suicide rather than help the Empire? Oh, Force—if these are Padme's parents, they have to be okay, they have to, they have to.

I reach out though the Force and search for any life signature still remaining. I get a faint trace, but it's falling out of him with every heartbeat, as the midichlorians are pushed from his body.

"Get some sheets," I command, pulling the man's wrists above his head. Maybe elevating them will help. I reach out into the Force, hardly noticing the vague trembling undercurrents as I brush through the fog until I arrive where I need to be. _Stop hurting yourself, _I command his body desperately, hoping that the remnants of all those that I pushed into becoming the Force for those of us still living would listen and help me. _I need you to heal yourself. You weren't supposed to be like this. The skin is supposed to be whole._

The wounds close up slightly as the woman hurries back into the alcove, tripping over what appears to be every linen sheet on the planet. I tie them tightly around his arms just below the cuts. I have to keep him in there. Just in case.

It doesn't look like things are working out. His breathing slows. His heart rate decreases.

I stand back and impassively watch as the woman prays to some god to help her.

And then—everything stops—

Time stops. His heart stops slowing.

His breathing stops decreasing.

But it doesn't speed back up either.

"Please, let him get help—let me call someone—he needs help—" the woman—my mother-in-law?—pleads, on her hands and knees, her husband's head cradled in her lap. "Let me call for help, let me, he will die—Oh, my Ruwee…"

He seems to have slipped into a coma. He's lost so much blood I know he can't survive long without a blood transfusion.

But if I let her call for help, she would have to tell them where we were. And then nothing could stop them from sending a small army over here to kill me.

"I can't," I say, hardening my heart against her pleas.

"We have children! You wouldn't want my son to grow up without a father!"

"No, I wouldn't," I agree. "But either your husband will get well without outside help—or…or…"

The alternative makes me physically ill. I've become as evil as Palpatine. I am the monster I've been trying not to be.

"Please," she whispers and is silent.

**DUN DUN DUN….**

**That was your semi-weekly update from Padfoot Reincarnated, the least consistent updater on the web.**

**I am on a _roll _today though, so look back in about seven hours, when I have my next turn on the family computer, for another update.**

**Will Anakin reveal himself to the authorities and be captured? Or will he let Ruwee die? And who are these people anyway? Is Anakin being self delusional? And what will Obi-wan and Padme have o say about this? Tune in next time for another episode of _Take Me Home, Brother, _by Padfoot Reincarnated.**

**Approximately 5-8 more chapters.**

**Reviewers…well. Please continue being your awesome selves, you guys are the best.**

**I have Episode III on DVD now, and I've watched it approx. a million times. Crying every single time, naturally.**

**I still don't own Star Wars.**

**Auf wiedersehen. **


	20. Chapter 20

I look down at the face of the dying man at my feet, and let my gaze travel to the ashen face of the woman beside him.

"You were lying to me earlier when you said you didn't have any daughters, weren't you?" I ask softly. Maybe I was lying to me, too. Maybe I shouldn't.

She hesitates, then bobs twice and tries in vain to find my eyes through the mask. "Sola and Padme—both are grown, but they have children as well. Well, Sola does, anyway. Ryoo and Pooja. Padme has a son."

"I don't think that's the only thing you've been lying about. I think you and your husband—you aren't really Yausta and Werdol…whatever last name you made up."

"Limantay," she says quickly, biting her lower lip. "We are Limantays."

"You are Jobal Naberrie, and your husband is Ruwee Naberrie," I stab, reaching out into the Force, hoping it will deny what I think I know.

The woman visibly flinches. "No," she whispers, bringing her hand down to brush a strand of hair away from her husband's face. "No."

"There is no need to lie," I laugh bitterly, reaching out towards her face. "I already know the truth."

As I expected, a handful of SynFlesh falls away into my palms.

She gasps, startled, and begins to mutter frantically again, "No—culpea dernit, Padme—I promised, we promised—culpea, culpea huwqi juniqua, Padme, lomanyo."

She bends down and grabs a 7 inch shard of glass from the broken vase and drives it at her heart. I stop it an inch from her chest with the use of the Force and pull it roughly from her hands, which drip blood. She looks at the deep, jagged gashes on her palms in disbelief.

A baby cries downstairs. Our heads turn simultaneously in the direction of the stairs. I wonder where Luke is? I wonder if Leia's okay, or if because of what I did she'll never call me 'Daddy.'

Oh, Force.

Didn't Padme say something about Luke being sent to live with her parents?

Luke.

I bolt from the room, the Force carrying the shards of glass with me. I take the flight of stairs in three leaps and race to the table where the child—Luke?—is screaming hysterically, face red and blotchy.

Hesitantly, I reach towards the child. I don't know if I should touch him.

His sobs slow somewhat. He opens his startlingly azure blue eyes and looks at me through tears. He waves a tiny fist at me and screams defiance.

Gently, I ease one hand under his back and the other by his side. Am I holding him right? I've never really held a baby before.

Regardless, it seems that maybe all he wanted was a little attention. Tentatively, I reach out and feel for his mind through the Force. I send little thought waves of affection and love. "Hi, Luke," I whisper, rubbing his downy soft tufts of hair. "I always wanted to be a daddy. Think I might do okay, after all?"

He gurgles and spits up all over my black robes.

"Urgh. Thanks, Luke," I say sarcastically, holding his with one hand and wiping the stuff off with another.

My son gives a contented sigh and falls asleep in my arms.

I wander upstairs, calmer than I have been since before the war started, perhaps more content than anytime in my life. Together, my son and I peer into the room where his grandparents are.

The man is still on the floor, now with his wife asleep beside him. But his force signature is even weaker than it was before. Luke, maybe sensing this, wakes up and yawns, waving a tiny arm vaguely in the direction of the two people curled up on the floor, before turning slightly and closing his eyes again.

There is a soft beeping from downstairs; Naboo making its response to my demand.

I place Luke on the bed, near the wall so he won't roll off, and hurry downstairs. I pick up the commlink and turn it on to find myself speaking to the Queen Jimilla, Padme, and the other Senator, Laimoyr.

"Your demands will not be tolerated," the Queen says as soon as my face is onscreen. "Naboo does not negotiate with kidnappers."

"Then these people will die," I threaten, my head spinning and my stomach sinking.

"I do not share the Queen's sentiments," Padme said in a trembling voice, "And we have reached an agreement. We cannot meet your exact demands. That would be ninety percent of our population over 20 years of age. But I will meet you somewhere neutral to carry out negotiations for some other settlement."

The Queen and Laimoyr scowl furiously at Padme, and I can tell that whatever she says to the contrary, this is her own idea, and she most likely has not discussed it with either of them. She must have recognized her mother, despite the disguise and false name.

I do not know if she recognized me. Perhaps she was unable to because of the fact I used Force tricks on her last time we spoke. Perhaps it's better this way.

Ignoring the protests of the other two, I ask, politely, "Where did you have in mind?"

"The third moon of Dantooine," she says promptly, "It's uninhabited, and outside of the jurisdiction of the Republic. I will come alone," she adds, voice wavering and eyes shining with tears. _Don't cry, beloved. It will be alright in the end._

"Don't come alone," I say finally, after a pause. "Bring a medical staff."

**Well, here is a little more. Not much, I know. It is 935 words. It is also 1:27 in the morning. I really need to go to bed. Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up tomorrow. There we will FINALLY have Obi-wan back. For most of the chapter. I've missed him! It will also feature Padme, Ruwee, Jobal, Luke, and Leia. And Anakin. Please review!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Okay. I'm sorry! I know that doesn't make up for not updating in like, three weeks. The first week I was lazy second traveling. I know I'm a sporadic updater, but a review would be nice, even if just to say you hate my guts. It would be nice to know somebody is still out there.**

The trip to Corascant in Ruwee and Jobal's ship does not take nearly as long as I would have liked. Two hours spent huddled in discomfort, listening to the moans of a dying man. Two hours watching his wife wipe away blood, and sweat from his brow. And two hours holding Luke, feeling his warm hand curl around my thumb.

Two hours.

I step out of the ship alone, leaving Luke with his grandparents. The atmosphere is thin, and I tire quickly and sink into the reddish brown sand by the river where we landed. My eyes scan the horizon, but find no sign of a ship. Well, I should have expected that. Naboo is not known for getting things done quickly.

A puff of gray dust shoots up over the crest of a hill about a quarter mile away. Impulsively, I stand up, pulse quickening, panicking. I don't know…I don't know. I don't want to be arrested. I don't know what to do.

But—why should I stay here when they arrive? Why shouldn't I leave now and let them find him and care for him, and I can go free?

Because I need to talk to Padme. So she can understand. Because I have to make sure Naboo will do what I need.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I stride towards the hill. A pungent breeze slowly filters through the mask, causing me to cough slightly. By this time I am very near to the hill, and a silhouette walks around the front. As it draws nearer, I see it's Obi-Wan.

As he approaches, I can see that he is frightened. Which can only be a bad thing, as in my experience it takes quite a bit to unnerve Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He sees me as well, and fairly hurtles towards me, stopping, panting and out of breath, about three feet away.

"Anakin," he yells as soon as he recovers, "What the _Force _do you think you are doing?"

"I—"

"It's all over the news, of course," he says, much more calmly, as though a minute ago he wasn't screaming his lungs out at me, "'_Masked man holds family hostage; wants army recruits—_' And then I saw you were going to meet with them—are you aware that the medical staff are also trained as police officers? Anakin, they aren't going to just calmly talk to you and do whatever you want—they will arrest you. Come on, you have to get _off _this planet, now. They'll have sensors—you can't let them find you—and you can't kill them—what _is _wrong with Padme's father anyway? Oh, never mind, just come on—"

He turns and flies towards the ship, getting about ten feet before realizing I am not with him. "Anakin, please, we really _must _hurry—don't be silly—"

At once I am incensed, angry and furious. The man calls himself my friend—doesn't consider for an instant that I know what I'm doing. "I'm staying," I inform him, sweeping back towards my ship, clenching my fists, "I suggest _you _leave. You're wanted for conspiring to overthrow the Republic."

"I'm trying to _help _you, Anakin!" my former master insists, jogging to rejoin me, "Could you at least do me the courtesy of explaining _why_ you want to stay?"

"I'm going to talk to my wife," I snarl, "Besides, I want to at least try to convince Naboo to meet Palpatine's demands so he doesn't kill you all. And if they won't—I think I've earned arrest. Unlike you. Leave, Master, so they don't get you, too."

"Come _with _me," he pleads, tugging at the back of his hair, "Anakin, Naboo will _not _meet your demands, you'll be wasting your time—please. There is no need for this—you will regret it."

"If they do arrest me—" I say, voice trembling, "you have to hide Padme and my babies for me. Please, Master. I don't want any of you to die, you must escape—you must _protect _them for me."

"Anakin—"

"Obi-Wan. Leave."

He stops where he stands, stricken, as I continue to pace forward towards the glossy blue ship that landed next to my own while I was talking with Obi-Wan.

As I get closer I see about twenty people in white uniforms standing around the ship, with guns. Among them is Padme.

She appears horribly out of place among the armed men, standing small and dark-haired, wringing her porcelain white hands, biting her lip.

I walk faster, careful not to go so fast I pass out from lack of oxygen. About twenty feet from the group, all the blasters are pointed at me in unison. "Stop where you are!" commands one of them through a bullhorn, "Do not come any closer. Negotiations will be carried out from here."

I take two cautious steps backwards, blindly probing and carefully placing each foot a little higher. I raise both charcoal hands in a peaceful gesture, palms out, mind racing.

I don't know—I can't think—I don't see how I can get them to Padme's father to help him, to save him, and also negotiate for Palpatine—I don't…

"No need. I'm turning myself in."

Did I just say that?

"The prisoners are on the ship. The security code to unlock it is 62232."

My hands tremble as I realize the full ramifications of what I'm doing. Obi-Wan was right, they'll arrest me, and then Palpatine will kill Obi-Wan and Padme and the twins. How could I be so damn selfish?

But it's too late now, because the officers are swarming around me now. One pulls my arms back and snaps cuffs on them. Someone laughs. One kicks my shins, surprising me so I tumble forward and bite my tongue. My mouth fills with the metallic taste of blood.

And now pulling myself to my feet I see my father-in-law being carried out of the ship in a stretcher and loaded onto the blue cruiser. I see my wife embracing my mother-in-law and taking our son in her arms, cradling him to her chest. I see pearly tears fall from her eyes as she sees her son, and then she looks at me.

Forgetful of everything, knowing she might not recognize me, hoping maybe she doesn't, I call her name. "Padme," I say, and it sounds so pathetic and weak, like a gasping death prayer, that I forget that this is the woman who can chase away nightmares, who loved me, who laughed and talked and played with me.

As I walk by her, she spits at my feet.

This gesture is met with cheers of approval and applause from her fellow Nubians. She looks at her feet, shocked, then, still clutching Luke, she follows her mother and father onto the ship ahead of me.

Another guard comes out of the cruiser holding a handheld weapons detector, which she sweeps across my body. My lightsaber sets it off, and she throws it carelessly into a metal container. I clench my teeth. She seems to notice this somehow. "Oh, is the terrorist not too happy now?" she taunts scathingly. "Well, that's just too bad. You're an asshole, you know that? You would have killed that baby without a moment's hesitation."

I do not respond.

I am lead into a cell. A comfortable cell, to be sure, as the Naboo are too peaceful to ever _dream _of inflicting actual pain on anybody, but a cell just the same.

A nurse comes over and he injects a needle into the small gap in the body armor just above my elbow and I am suddenly so sleepy…..

-------

Qui-Gon Jinn looks at me sadly. "Hello, Anakin."

What? "Qui-Gon—?" I slur, my tongue thick, "But you're…you are…you're dead."

"And you, Anakin, are asleep," he chides gently.

"Oh," I groan wearily, pulling myself to my feet and yawning, "I guess that explains it then. Master Qui-Gon, I just got arrested."

"I know," he says, smiling sadly, "and believe it or not, young one, it was the right thing to do."

"Right? How can it be right? I should have left with Obi-Wan, I didn't even get to talk to Padme…she hates me now anyway, I think. I didn't do my job, I didn't get rid of Palpatine, and on top of that my master probably thinks I hate him. He probably wishes he never met me at all."

"You underestimate Obi-Wan," he chastises gently; "he knows you too well to think you hate him because you were angry. An even if he did think that, he wouldn't hate you for it. Give him some credit. Obi-Wan loves you too much to bring himself to hate you. I think he proved that on Mustafar."

I stare at my hands, ashamed. He's right, of course. "But I still didn't kill Palpatine," I mumble softly, "I didn't do my job. I didn't balance the Force. I failed."

"You have not failed, young one," he says, "The future is clearer from my point of view…but if you'll excuse me, I think someone else wants to talk to you."

"What?"

"Good-bye, Anakin Skywalker. I hope we will meet again."

"Then why won't you teach me how to be a ghost? You're telling Obi-Wan."

"I would tell you if I could, Anakin."

And the world dissolves.

-------

"Ani—"

"Qui-Gon…no…"

"Ani, it's me…Padme."

I shake the clouds of sleep from my aching eyes and try to sit up and find I can't feel anything below my neck.

"Padme…I'm sorry…" I whisper, letting the words fall between us.

"My father is okay," she says, refusing my apology and instead answering my unasked question. "They think he'll live. Thank you," she continues haltingly, "for bringing him back to me. However. I must know why you are doing this."

"For you," I moan, aching with the need to feel her. I reach with the Force and caress her mind with my own; she responds by flinching and withdrawing. "I did it for you," I say more quietly, "so that you would live."

Tears fall unhindered from soft brown eyes. "I cannot understand your reasoning, nor condone your behavior. I cannot forgive or forget what you have done. But Anakin Skywalker, you are my husband, we promised to stay together for better or worse. I love you, Anakin. And I will not let them take you away."

She takes my hand and puts her forehead to mine. She is cold. Her shoulders shake and her tears fall to my eyes, crying for both of us.

"Now—Ani, I have to give you another injection to put you back to sleep. No one knows I'm in here or that I woke you up. Okay?"

She jabs the needle into my elbow, kisses me gently, and she is gone and so is everything else


	22. Chapter 22

When I wake, it is to find myself in a painfully bright room, huddled on a bare mattress set directly on the floor. Experimentally, I wiggle my fingers and find the paralysis has worn off. I catapult myself off the soggy mattress and onto deep white carpeting.

The room seems to be about 12 feet by 15. Everything is _white. _White walls, white floor, little white toilet in the corner. White door.

I glide across the small chamber and reach the door, which seems to be locked using some sort of number pad. I press in several combinations of random numbers before eventually giving up and pounding on the door. "Is anyone out there?" I shout, mask against the door.

"Prisoner 9800083000, imprisoned for the kidnapping and attempted murder of unidentified Nubian citizens." Harsh tones emanate from all corners of the room. I twist my neck in confusion, half expecting to see someone floating in midair.

"This is prisoner communicator Yulial. Is there anything you need?"

Ah. I see it now. A little intercom system running around the top of the walls.

"Where am I?" I ask, not being able to think of anything else.

"You are being held in the high security prison on the planet Hoth."

"What?" I ask, momentarily stunned. The prison on Hoth…Isn't that the one where only the worst criminals go? Like mass murderers, and terrorists? "How long am I going to be here?" I inquire apprehensively.

"Until execution. Execution date is set in nine months, three weeks, two days."

I lean into the wall, reeling. Breathing faster, heart pounding. "No," I hiss, barely a sound at all. "No," I say louder, though without conviction, voice cracking, "A trial. I need a trial."

"Emperor Palpatine gave an executive order," says the voice, smirking. "You will receive no trial. The Senate voted for your execution."

The Senate…Padme.

"That can't be _right_," I moan aloud, gripping the helmet with leather gloved hands, kicking the wall. "Is there anyone I can speak to about this?"

"You are in solitary confinement except for limited contact with prison communication task teams."

"No! This isn't right—I'm sure I have some sort of constitutional right to—"

"You are in solitary confinement except for limited contact with prison communication task teams. Is there anything else you require?"

"No—wait. Yes. I'm thirsty."

"Very well. Water will be sent to your room within the next hour."

A buzz of static.

Silence.

I pull myself to my feet and scream in frustration, and stalk to the other side of the room, where I pound and kick at the door. I exert the Force on it, willing it to open—_open._

Wordlessly I howl in anguish at the nameless people killing me—killing me. Taking me from Padme, and Obi-Wan, and my babies who I'll never see grown up, who Palpatine will kill anyway because I can't recruit for him—

But no, not nameless, it was Palpatine, "Emperor" Palpatine, who put me here, who destroyed everything. Palpatine my "mentor," Palpatine my "friend," Palpatine my "master."

Damn him.

I march back and forth, back and forth, ceaselessly, tirelessly, don't know how long, until a flap opens at the bottom of the door and a clear pitcher of icy water and an empty glass slide under. I pick up the glass and hold it close to my eyes. The florescent light glides through the crystalline surface, catching every crack and tired chip.

I hurl it at the wall for the satisfaction of seeing it break.

Plastic. It bounces off and rolls onto the carpeting unharmed.

I grab the pitcher and fling it at the mattress. The water spills out, drenching the fabric.

I spend hours, ages, pacing back and forth, back and forth across the tiny room. Backandforthbackandforth.

Suddenly I am exhausted and I collapse, trembling, onto the mattress. My throat is cracked and parched and my tongue is dry and swollen. And on top of that the water seeps through every crack in the armor, sending my body into spasms and chills and temporarily short circuiting one of my legs. I lay that way for hours, shaking from cold or fear. The last thing I see before I fall into sleep is Leia screaming as I torture her.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Time passes, or at least I think it does. It's hard to tell. I sleep when I am tired and eat when I am hungry. The lights never go out; there is no simulated night.

Tedium becomes normality. Most days after the first few angry weeks, waiting for Obi-Wan to come rescue me like I am so _sure _he will, are spent huddled in a corner. Oh, I do _some_ things. Sometimes I pretend someone is in the room with me, and we have conversations, with me speaking for both of us. Sometimes when I sleep, Qui-Gon visits me, but I am unable to tell if he is real or a dream. I create pictures on the floor with food and water.

Despite the many reassurances that food will be sent up within an hour of my requests, I am sure that sometimes it takes longer than that. My muscles ache with hunger, and decay from lack of use.

Some things happen to ease the painful monotony. Once there is a blackout; things become terribly cold and dark for ages. I have no way of knowing how long. When the power comes on I request water and receive a glass of ice.

Now, I must be dreaming. They told me the last time I ate a visitor was coming. I do not know what to think. Visitors are not allowed. It must be the executioner. Has it been nine months already? I fix an image of Padme in my head. I want her face to be the last thing I see.

The door slides open. A woman, armed. The woman walks over to me. She must be the executioner. I flinch and cover my face with my hands waiting for the inevitable. But no—I want to face death. I stand up and let my arms fall to my side.

But her arms are around me. "Oh, Ani," she says. Padme's voice. Her soft hair smells like Padme's. Why am I imagining the executioner as Padme?

"I'm doing everything I can, in the Senate. I've appealed your case to the courts, and I keep getting referred to higher ups. I think at the least I can delay things. Right now it's set back from the original date—next week—indefinitely. Ani?"

She puts her hands on either side of my face. I wish she would kill me and be done with it.

"Ani, please say something! Are you angry at me? I'm doing my best—Ani?" Her voice is shrill, like Padme when she was frightened.

"Oh—Ani, are those _maggots _in the corner?"

She walks over to one of my pictures in the corner farthest from the door and picks up one of the small wriggling worms that were born on it. I give a hoarse yell. I haven't used my voice in ages. She looks at me momentarily, then flings it at the door.

"They told me you were being well taken _care _of! I'm so sorry…"

I stare at the ground. I wish we could stop this game and I could just be dead and it would be over.

"Ani? Don't you recognize me? It's Padme?"

How dare she—? It is wrong; she is pretending to be my beloved just to hurt me. I push her, and she falls from her feet. Whimpering, she crawls out the door.

No one comes, no one comes. I wonder if they have forgotten I am here. Maybe no one will ever come. Maybe I will rot away in here and someday they will find my bones.

I see no need to delay the inevitable. I stop eating. I stop requesting meals.

I ache for a while, and then I am simply tired, too tired to move. Too tired to request food if I wanted any. I crawl to my mattress and lie there.

I drift in and out of sleep. Sometimes I see people, sometimes there is screaming. Always a dull ache, a nameless pain. Always.

Four armed men come in and bind my arms and legs together.

"Walk."

I struggle to pull myself to my feet. My eyes roll in my head and I fall down panting, can't breathe.

One kicks my side and curses under my breath. One talks to someone on a radio. Am I dreaming? I don't even know anymore.

A droid pushes a stretcher in, then turns and leaves without speaking. Two of the men haul me onto it, and then three of them surround me as the other pushes me down the hall.

When we reach the end, I am placed into the cell of a large star cruiser. The door closes, and just before I loose consciousness, I think I hear, "Pathetic filth. He deserves every bit of what's coming to him next week. I thought I'd feel guilty. But he deserves it."

**Dun dun dun….**

**HA! I updated two days in a row! Woot, woot. This girl is on a ROLL! Okay, getting to the point, thanks for all the support. I'm sorry if this chapter was kind of boring. But, yeah, Anakin was narrating and I was kind of trying to reflect him loosing touch with reality. He honestly did not recognize his wife. Don't know how realistic or true to character this was, but its what came to mind. This story is NOTHING like I planned it. If I'd stuck with the chapter outlines, Anakin would have died 6 chapters ago and never worked for Palpatine and…Well. You know. It wouldn't be anything like this.**

**Padfoot Reincarnated**


	23. Chapter 23

I wake up in a new cell, much nicer than the last. I am on a real bed this time, head in pillows and soft blankets over my body.

I push the covers away from my face, and, still sitting, move my eyes from one side of the room to the next.

There is a window, overlooking a dirty skyway, but a window nonetheless. The sun that manages to push through the haze and smog pours itself in, casting a grayish glow over everything.

'Everything' in this case is a small sink, a shower, a toilet, and a short oak dresser. The bottom drawer, carelessly hanging open, reveals crisply folded clothes.

Exhausted and _aching,_ so horribly, I allow my lids to fall shut. Light filters through my eyelids, allowing me to see every pulsating vein. Briefly entertained, I stare at it, before sighing and turning my face into the pillow. My body follows reluctantly, wincing, so that I am stretched out on my stomach. I inhale deeply, tasting the cleanness of the freshly laundered pillowcase. I feel my thin shoulder blades rise and fall, pressing empty ribs—

Ribs—the suit is gone. I wonder briefly how—but Palpatine, he would have known how, and I am in _his _kingdom now, and he makes the rules.

So everyone knows who I am. Of course they'll have run a DNA scan—and of course they will have matched it to mine, which was sitting innocently with all the others.

Curious, I prop myself onto my elbows, cringing as the metal joints rub the thin layer of skin, scraping it painfully. I am cautious, almost fearful, as I bring my hand up to feel my face.

My hands are surprisingly cold. I move my head back slightly, an involuntary motion, before submitting.

Flesh that has felt nothing for months is suddenly stunned as hands feel every crack, the sagging bags under heavy eyes, the dry, chapped eyebrows. And hollow cheekbones are touched by hands sensitive to the way small strips of skin are ready to fall away.

Satisfied, I allow myself to flop back onto the pillows.

"Anakin Skywalker, Death Row Inmate 001, this is prisoner communication team Gontal and Pleauyon. Is there anything you require?"

My tongue is dry and swollen from lack of water. My throat screams with pain as I force my mouth open and move it to say, "No."

One syllable, easy to say, to remember. My mornings—or wakings, whenever they are—have been going like this since I saw the vision of Padme as an executioner. However long ago that was.

"Are you certain? We are required by law to inform you that your execution, in the form of lethal injection, is scheduled in 7 hours from now, at eleven pm local time."

"No," I say again, more quietly, not sure what I'm protesting to.

I hear the familiar buzz of static that means the other end has left.

I want to be angry. But find I can't. I do not have the energy to force myself to get worked up over this. I consider allowing myself to get depressed, but even if I wanted to be upset—I just don't care anymore, if I die.

Yes. I'll have failed everyone. Padme will be alone. I'm sorry, Padme. I'm sorry I'm leaving you a widow. I'm sorry I won't be there in the mornings when you wake up, and at the dinner table, and in the evenings to talk. Or ever.

And my children—Luke and Leia. My babies, my daughter, my son. I'm sorry. What's it like not to have a father? Or, I suppose, to have one who left you, like me?

And—Obi-Wan. This one causes shame to fall across my face, the first thing I've felt in eons. He was _counting _on me. The prophecy. I was supposed to fulfill it.

_It was said you would destroy the Sith, not **join **them._

I'm sorry.

Scraping noise, from the window.

Judging from the amount of light filtering through my eyes, it's almost dark. Just a few hours left, then.

I struggle to pull a pillow over my face and finally succeed, panting. This effectively blocks out the noise and I sit in comforting silence.

The pillow is suddenly thrown away, and I moan at the sudden cold.

Something warm on my shoulder—a hand. So different from my own skeletal palm. Soft flesh gently shakes my shoulder.

"Anakin—Anakin, wake up." A low, urgent voice.

I crack my eyelids and see a face see a face swimming above me. It is too dark to make out distinct features, but I think I glimpse the familiar reddish blur of Obi-Wan's beard.

Angry tears slide down my cheeks. I'm stupid…so stupid. It's just a dream, a dream. I'm such an idiot for thinking anyone would come. For hoping…

But then I a slight pressure on my mind, tugging gently at a fraying bond—

Obi-Wan.

I try to pull myself into a sitting position, but fall back onto the pillows, coughing. He grabs my hands and slowly pulls me to my feet. I smile blindly, the unfamiliar gesture coming almost easily.

I place my arm around his shoulder for support, and find I don't need it as he uses the Force to keep me standing. I let my limbs fall to my sides, swinging uselessly as I close my eyes.

"Anakin."

I open my eyes to see Obi-Wan standing in front of the thick fiberglass window, part of which was obviously melted away by his lightsaber.

"Hurry, Anakin, we haven't got much time. Padme's been able to sneak in and disable the security cameras, but it won't last long."

I do not say anything, but stand motionless as he propels me forward.

A ship is suspended out side the window. I tumble into it, prevented from dropping out only by Obi-Wan's grip on my hand—

But—Obi-Wan's still in the room, just getting in the ship, now turning to face past me, and I turn too, and see—

Me.

A mirror, but too real. And—the hair is too blonde, the skin too tan and healthy.

I turn my neck back to Obi-Wan, eyes full of question.

He looks past me as he speaks, to the figure seated to my left. "A clone," he says softly, "It was—created—just after your arrest. Padme has been checking up on your condition so that it could be replicated—and here it is."

"It?" I choke out.

"He, I suppose," he corrects himself, handing me a bottle of water that according to the label is absolutely _teeming _with vitamins and minerals. He looks at me sternly before I reluctantly twist the lid off and tilt it into my mouth.

The cool stream hits my tongue. It's almost painful. It slides down my throat, and before I know it the entire bottle is gone. Silently, he hands me another, and another. Eventually, content, I fall back into the seat and close my eyes, nodding to indicate he continue his explanation.

"We're replacing him with you," he says simply.

I meet the eyes of the clone. Fear—pain—betrayal—all of what I've felt.

"No," I whisper.

"I am pleased to carry out the orders of my Master," the clone says. "Master Kenobi has requested I replace you, and I am willing to do so." I note his bitter tone as he speaks Obi-Wan's name.

"Obi-Wan," I say hoarsely, turning to face my best friend, "Tell him he doesn't have to."

Obi-Wan's voice betrays none of the sadness in his eyes, nor the turmoil and overwhelming guilt I feel radiating from him. "I can't, Anakin."

I nod, accepting this, and turn to face the clone.

"I'm sorry," I say.

"I will do my duty," he says quietly, stepping out of the ship and pulling himself through the window. Obi-Wan turns on the engine.

The clone smiles briefly and waves.

As we pull away, as the top is curving up, Obi-Wan sticks his head out of the small opening still left. "Goodbye, Anakin," he calls, before quickly tugging his neck back in.

We are almost out of the atmosphere, cutting away from the skyways, when I am able to focus enough to see the tears leaking down my friend's face.

"He was a good friend," he tells me simply, brushing his eyes with the back of his palm. "A good friend."

"I'm sorry," I mutter, staring out the window as we pull away from the stars into hyperspace.

"No, I'm just being ridiculous. I didn't really have a _choice _you know, that's why we created him. Fastest grown clone in the galaxy—Yoda was able to speed it along considerably. Sometimes I forgot he wasn't you," he says, laughing slightly, "Though of course, there were some differences—made it rather obvious at times. It was just yesterday that I was able to bring myself to tell him what he had to do—and it wasn't the happiest scene in the world, as I'm sure you can imagine."

"I'm sorry," I repeat uselessly. I should have died.

"Where are we going?" I ask abruptly.

"Degobah, is the plan."

"Okay," I say, before falling into a restless sleep.

**A/N**

**Okay, I know the clone thing is just kind of randomly stuck in there, but I was rereading one of my all time favorite books, The House of the Scorpion, by Nancy Farmer, which deals with that issue, and I just couldn't resist.**

**Constructive criticism appreciated. Like, tell me if people are OOC or if its badly paced or unrealistic dialogue. Please?**

**Thanks again to my reviewers. **


	24. Chapter 24

I do not wake for the rest of the journey. In fact I do not wake at all except for once briefly as we land, shocked into awareness by the sudden heat and humidity. After that I sink back into the dark dreamworld, visited by phantoms who steal away as quickly as they come. The Jedi children stand solemnly in a line before me, accusing, until they fall down dead and I see that behind them is Leia. But she screams and falls away from me even as I try to catch her.

When I am not dreaming, sometimes Qui-Gon Jinn comes, but never says anything, never, never. His mouth moves and says nothing.

And when they are all gone I am alone, dark and cold and alone, worse than the prison, worse than anything. I yell for Padme and Obi-Wan, but no one ever comes and I am still here, trapped, can't move or breathe or speak.

Sometimes I am aware of being hot, or cold. My skin, whenever I feel it, is damp. Once or twice I catch the aroma of food being cooked, and once even Padme's perfume.

I do not know how long I stay that way, in the void, the twilight between sleep and wake, dark and light, life and death. The sameness of the dark destroys all sense of time, all feeling of movement.

Sometimes I feel people in the room with me and try to call out to them, but I am never strong enough to do anything more than that before slipping, as always, back into the dreamscape. I can never pull myself out.

But now Padme is here, I sense her, beside me, sad, whispering to me, though I do not know what, and I try again to speak and pull myself out, trying one last time to live.

"Padme," I call bleakly again, straining to pull myself into awakeness, "Padme…"

And then there are cool hands on my brow, and words, but I can't make them out, can't hear or feel, but I know she is there, and it is this that finally pulls me into awareness.

I open my eyes but cannot see well, the world is a blur, splashes of color here and there against a mainly brown background. I blink a few times, trying to clear my head.

"He's awake!" a shrill voice yelps suddenly, "Everybody, he's awake!"

Padme.

I cannot see her features through my clouded vision, but it doesn't matter. She presses a soft kiss to my lips, and warm, happy tears fall from her face to mine.

"I can hardly believe it," she says breathlessly, sitting up and rubbing my hand, "Today's the only day I can be down here this week, and you're awake, this is so perfect! I'm down today to celebrate the twins' birthday and, oh, Luke's going to be so happy!"

And then there is Obi-Wan standing in the doorway holding a dark haired baby under one arm and a fair child by the hand. "Mommy!" calls the blonde one, who I think is Luke, toddling to Padme as fast as his short legs will take him, and catapulting himself into her lap. She bounces him on her knee and tickles him. "Hi, Lukey," she says playfully, "Why is your face so messy? Were you causing trouble?" If I squint, I can make out pale yellow smears across his cheeks, forehead, and lips.

"No!" He screams, giggling happily.

"I thought it might be nice if Luke helped with the cake," Obi-Wan admits, stepping beside Padme. She kisses Luke's forehead and sets him on my legs before wordlessly taking Leia from Obi-Wan. Luke seems to notice me for the first time and looks fearfully from Padme to Obi-Wan. "It's okay, Luke," Obi-Wan says reassuringly, "Your daddy woke up now. Why don't you say 'hi' to him?"

Luke shakes his head and jumps off the bed, waddling over to Obi-Wan, who picks him up obligingly. "Hello, Anakin," he says finally, "Good to see you awake again. I must say, you've picked a very convenient time to wake up; we're getting ready to celebrate the twins' birthdays."

"So I've heard," I say groggily. I realize suddenly how thirsty I am. "Could I have something to drink?"

"Certainly," Obi-Wan says, "Anything in particular?"

"No. Anything's fine."

"Alright, then, in that case I'll get you a glass of water. Stay here, Luke."

"Thank you," I reply, watching him set Luke down and retreat in a blur of color. I think I see him rubbing his eyes as he walks away.

Luke runs to Padme and buries his face in her skirt. "Why don't you go sit with Daddy, Sweetie? Mommy has to hold Leia."

"You holded Leia. Hold Luke," he demands.

"I'll hold Leia, if she doesn't mind," I offer. "Leia, do you want Daddy to hold you?"

No reply.

Wordlessly, Padme transfers Leia over to me and scoops up Luke.

The instant I see her face, I know something is wrong. Her eyes are open, but dull and unfocused. Her mouth hangs open, too. She is smaller than Luke, and when I set her on the bed, does not sit on her own, but falls back into a laying position.

"What's wrong with Leia?" I ask, worried, "is she sick?"

Padme bites her lip. "Lukey, honey, why don't you go out and finish helping Uncle Obi-Wan with the cake?"

"Okay, Mommy. Bye-bye."

"Bye-bye, Luke. Mommy loves you."

"I love you, too, Luke," I add as he toddles away, stumbling out the door.

"Alright," I say as soon as I think Luke's out of hearing range, "What's wrong with her?"

"I really don't think we should be having this conversation right after you just woke up," she says nervously, "Can we just relax for a while and enjoy ourselves, and talk about it later?"

"Padme, tell me what's wrong with my daughter," I demand in low tones.

"No, I really just don't think—"

"Now."

"Okay," she says, "Please, though, don't get upset. Understand, Ani, you've been sick for at least half a year, basically comatose these past three months—I just don't want you to get hurt again."

She stands up and walks to the open door, pulling it shut. She stops and faces the wall as she speaks to me, wringing her hands with anxiety. "Anakin, she's never really recovered from—whatever Palpatine—and you—did to her. She never started crawling, or talking, or walking, or any of the things Luke did. He keeps getting farther and farther ahead of her, she just isn't progressing any farther. She can't sit up, or feed herself, or even roll over from her back to her stomach."

A wave of sickness rolls over me as I look at Leia. I did this to her, I ruined her life—but I _saved _her life, I did, I tried.

I stare at Padme blankly.

"She's brain damaged, and we don't know how much because we don't have the scanners or equipment to find out, but it seems to be permanent…" she dissolves as she speaks, turning to face me again, brown eyes pooled with tears. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess," she cries, "I just don't like talking about it…and this was supposed to be such a happy day, I don't want to ruin it. The twins' birthday, and you woke up—this _is _a happy day, and I'm ruining it for everybody. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," I say quietly, staring into Leia's eyes.

"It's just she's a year old today, and she seems like a big newborn. I always dreamed of having a daughter, and I'd tie her hair in ribbons and we'd do all sorts of mothery-daughtery things together—but Leia's never going to do any of that stuff."

"No, she's not, is she," I say dully.

"No," she agrees turning to face me, "I love her, though, I love her so much."

"I do, too," I echo hollowly.

I pick Leia back up and push myself back so that I am resting on the backboard, cradling her lightly in my arms. Before I know what's happening, my shoulders shake with dry sobs, and this time it is Padme comforting me, rubbing my back, until I get control moments later.

"I'm fine," I gulp.

There is a knock at the door. "Hello?" Obi-Wan calls, "I've got your water; sorry it took so long."

I shoot Padme a quick smile, and reply, "Come on in."

Obi-Wan opens the door and sets the glass on my bedside table. "Are you both alright?" he asks cautiously, "You seem upset."

"It's nothing," I say, "I was just hearing about Leia."

"Ah," he nods knowingly, taking the other seat next to Padme's, "But you know, she has the sweetest personality of any child I've ever met," he consoles me, "She hardly ever cries, and she's very easygoing."

"Has she been getting any treatment?" I inquire.

"There really aren't any places we could take her for that on Degobah," Obi-Wan says slowly.

"Well, why can't she go off planet? Palpatine knows she exists, it wouldn't do any more harm than what's already been done."

"She's stronger when she's with Luke," Padme says passionately, "When she's away, she won't eat, and she cries all the time."

"So…she's been living on Degobah?"

Obi-Wan nods. "I've been caring for them both, and Padme comes down whenever she can get away from the Senate."

Suddenly, Luke is in the doorway. "Hi, Luke," I greet him.

He ignores me completely, turning to Obi-Wan, "Read," he demands, thrusting out a book wrapped in a pudgy fist.

Padme scoops him up, and for a minute he looks like he's going to cry, but she tickles him and says, "Obi-Wan is talking to Daddy, Lukey. Mommy will read to you." They swoop out the door together, Luke giggling.

Obi-Wan and I talk for over an hour. He tells me all about Luke and Leia. "Luke is a lot like you," he informs me, "he gets into a _lot _of trouble, but he's very bright."

I learn my son's first word—water—and how old he was when he took his first step—ten months.

He asks me once about my experience in prison, but on seeing my stony faced silence, quickly changes the subject.

I lean back and let Obi-Wan's voice wash over me, drinking in the past three months.

"I can't see," I blurt eventually, in a brief pause, "Everything's all blurry."

"That's probably from malnutrition," he says gently. "You were very ill."

"Is it permanent?" I ask.

"Maybe," he says softly, looking away. "Probably."

"Okay," I swallow and bite my lip. "Okay." I turn and smile at my friend, who looks worried. "I've had worse news today."

"It's good to have you back," he says softly. "I've missed you. Force, I've missed you…"

I smile, and then remember something that has been nagging on the back of my mind. "Obi-Wan—I'm sorry about that clone." I suddenly feel ashamed. I shouldn't have let him die for me, I should have died—shouldn't have been such a coward—

His mood changes abruptly, from happy and relaxed to tense and even almost angry. "Let's talk about something else," he says abruptly.

"Okay," I agree, frightened.

"Good."

"But, before—can I ask one thing? Was he executed instead of me?"

"Yes, he was."

A heavy silence falls.

A soft vanilla scent floats in. "Mmm…" I inhale deeply.

"Luke had a lot of fun making that," Obi-Wan says fondly, grinning, our previous exchange forgotten. "He did make a bit of a mess though."

"Good boy," I laugh.

"He can be a bit rambunctious," Obi-Wan concedes, "but he really is a good boy."

Padme walks in, balancing the cake plate on one hand as she slides through the door with Luke. "Here's a cake for the birthday kids!" she says happily.

The cake is put on my bed and the candle lit.

"Happy Birthday to you," we chorus, "Happy birthday to yoouu! Happy biirrthday Luke and Leia! Happy birthday to you!" Luke leans over from his spot on Obi-Wan's knee and blows out the candle.

I catch Padme's eye as she leans down to cut the cake, and we smile at each other.

And I am happy.

**A/N:**

**Here's today's update. Not much going on in it. Anyone else think the pacing in this chapter is kind of off? Hope you enjoyed though!**

**Padfoot Reincarnated**


	25. Chapter 25

Padme leaves early the next morning. She wakes up early, and when I stir at her movement, tells me she has to attend a Senate session. She says goodbye and hurries from the bedroom.

Hours later, sufficiently rested, I try to get out of bed, but when I put weight on my legs, they crumple beneath me. I pull myself back onto the bed using my arms, which fortunately have a little strength left.

I stay in bed for several hours, not wanting to bother anyone. Eventually, there is a knock on the door. "Good morning," Obi-Wan calls through the wood, "are you awake?"

"Yes," I reply, yawning despite myself.

He opens the door and slides in, holding Luke. Yoda is behind him.

"Hello, Master Yoda," I say, genuinely happy to see the small Jedi.

"Greetings, Young Skywalker," he intones gravely, hobbling in on his walking stick.

"Did you come all the way out here?" I inquire.

"Live on this planet, I do," he informs me. "Come to Obi-Wan's house every morning, I do, to Force-heal your daughter. Need Force-Healing you do as well," he says sternly, "If to recover, you wish."

"I'm fine," I say, "I'm sure that if I rest for a few months, eat right and all that, I'll be up on my feet in no time."

"A few months we do not have," he says sternly, "overthrow Palpatine we must, before a better hold the new government takes."

I shrug and, out of protests, do not argue any more.

I've never really understood Force healing, myself, but Yoda takes a seat on the floor right where he is standing and closes his eyes in meditation. The new eddies and currents in the Force, which I have become used to since their appearance, begin to hum and reverberate with Master Yoda's signature.

After Yoda sinks deeply enough into his meditation that we can speak freely without bothering him, Obi-Wan sits in the same chair where he was yesterday and sits Luke in the other one. "Where's Leia?" I ask.

"Asleep; she's always tired after healing," he tells me.

"Oh. Has it—made any difference at all?" I struggle with the words.

"Not mentally," Obi-Wan says remorsefully, "But physically, yes. She's been growing better. She's actually almost as big as Luke."

"I big," Luke informs us solemnly, smiling so that I can see the tops of white teeth pushing through his gums.

"Yes, you are a big boy," I agree.

He hides his face in Obi-Wan's robes.

"Why is he so scared of me?" I wail out loud, frustrated, "I'm being nice, I don't look _that _scary—"

"He's just a little nervous around new people," Obi-Wan replies, "He doesn't get to see anyone but Yoda, Padme, Leia and myself. It took him over a month to even get used to Padme. And remember, for the past three months, you've just been sitting here, not moving. And now suddenly you're talking, so that must be odd. Here, though," he continues, plucking Luke up onto the bed, "Why don't we try again. Luke, this is your Daddy. He just woke up after being asleep for a very long time and now he wants to talk to you. Can you say hi?"

"Hi," my son echoes, popping a fist into his mouth.

"Did you have a good birthday?" I ask, desperate to get him to keep talking.

"Good birfday," he agrees, "Mommy broughted me Golbdy."

"What's Golbdy?" I ask, semi-concerned, semi-entertained.

"Golbdy my friend! I show," he says, and bounces off the bed and careens out of the room at breakneck speed.

"Golbdy?" I ask incredulously, "My son is playing with something called _Golbdy?_"

Obi-Wan shakes in silent laughter, "It's a stuffed dragon she bought him for a birthday present. Love at first sight. Not sure where he came up with the name, though," he adds, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Are either of you or Yoda training him in the Force?" I ask, suddenly curious.

"No," he says hesitantly, "Yoda wasn't sure it was a good idea. And I wanted to ask you, and Padme is dead set against the idea anyway."

"I don't want the Jedi to die out," I mutter, "I don't want to be single-handedly responsible for the downfall of one of the greatest things in this galaxy."

"It wouldn't be you," he says, smiling bitterly, "it would be your good friend Palpatine. And…maybe it's time for it to die. I've been talking with Master Qui-Gon."

I open my mouth to reply, but at that instant, Luke bursts back into the room, a dragon swinging at his side.

"Look," he commands, pushing 'Golbdy' towards Obi-Wan. "See? Golbdy."

"Why don't you show your Daddy?"

"Okay," he agrees reluctantly, allowing himself to be placed once more on my legs. "See? This Golbdy."

"Golbdy sounds like a very brave dragon," I say, impressed, "Would you like to hear a story about Golbdy and Luke?" He nods cautiously, chewing the dragon's already scruffy red tail.

And so, on the spot, I begin to make up a story about Golbdy the dragon and young Sir Luke, who tamed him from the time he was a little egg. They grow up together, and go on exotic adventures. They have just rescued the Alderiaan princess, Leia, from certain death, when Obi-Wan stands up and leaves with a quick smile.

Luke, enthralled by the tale, doesn't even notice he's gone.

After awhile delicious aromas start wafting in. My stomach growls with hunger. I haven't tasted any food besides that cake last night in Force only knows how long.

I hurry to finish the tale—the young knight and the dragon move into a castle, become kings, and rule happily ever after. As I reach my conclusion, Obi-Wan maneuvers into the room with a food tray balanced precariously on one hand. "Brought you breakfast," he says cheerfully, "You need to get your strength back. Anakin, the eggs, sausage, toast, and milk are yours, and Luke, the oatmeal is yours."

I wrinkle my nose. "I'm not sure I'd trust anything you cooked, Master," I say good naturedly, "Do you remember that time you tried to make peanut butter cookies?"

He rolls his eyes at the memory. "I've actually become quite the chef," he informs me, "It was either cook for myself or eat Yoda's stuff. And if I'd fed Yoda's stuff to the twins, it would probably constitute as child abuse."

"Hear you, I can," Yoda says.

"Oh…" Obi-Wan flushes, "I thought you were still healing…your cooking isn't that bad, Master Yoda, I was just joking..."

Yoda shrugs his shoulders indifferently. "Begun to heal, your bones have," he tells me, "After eating you should be strong enough to walk."

"Thank you, Yoda," I say, stunned. "I didn't realize it would be so fast…"

"Not expect much, you should," he says gently, "Not be able to walk far will you, and not for long. But better you will get, and then attack Palpatine we will. Goodbye, Obi-Wan, Anakin, Luke."

"Bye, Yoda."

1232123212321

After lunch I am strong enough to make it to the kitchen. But once there, I collapse onto a chair, panting heavily. Obi-Wan puts my arm over his shoulder and we stand, he supporting my weight fully, both with the Force and his own body.

"Thank you," I say when I am finally back in my comfortable bed. I close my eyes and drift off to sleep almost instantly. "Thank you…"

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

The days pass like that for several dreamlike weeks. Sleeping in mornings; hours with Obi-Wan and Luke. Luke slowly begins to trust me, but he still clings to Obi-Wan unless ordered to do otherwise.

Once I am stable on my feet, I try to visit Leia at least once a day. She never responds, just sits there like a beautiful porcelain doll.

Padme visits when she can, which is not often. Once every two weeks or so she pops in, sometimes for an hour, sometimes for a weekend. Those days are always special, spent with her, talking, laughing, stealing the little time we have. Somehow, on the days she is here, the food tastes better, the heat is more tolerable, and everyone seems _happier_.

Luke learns new things everyday, only a small portion of which is words. For example, he learns how to turn on a practice saber after finding the cabinet where they are kept. We are more careful after that, and all the cabinets are locked. And, true to what I've heard of him, Luke _is _a lot of trouble. It seems like his constant goal in life is to discover how to open the door so that he can participate more freely in his favorite activity—making mud pies, which he embellishes with leaves and attempts to feed to innocent bystanders.

The afternoons are spent with Obi-Wan getting my strength back up. At first we simply walk around the house, slowly at first, then faster, faster, until about three weeks later I am able to jog.

Then we get out lightsabers, and my body sinks into the familiar katas with such easy familiarity I forget there ever was a time when I was not strong enough to lift the hilt.

There are some things I need to relearn, or remaster, but the basics, the things I've known for ages, are still with me, and I am able to let go of my body and let it fill with the Force and let the Force move me with such fluidity and ease that Obi-Wan suggests we have a practice duel. I loose quickly and badly. And so it is with new resolution that I set about practicing.

Five weeks later, _I _beat _him._

When I excitedly tell Master Yoda the next day, he looks thoughtful, and says, "Time to attack Palpatine it is."

I don't know if I agree.

**A/N:**

**Ha! Look how fast I updated! I think three more chapters at the most, and a prologue for sure. Well, enjoy! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. Thanks to those of you who've stuck with me this far.**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N:**

**Well, this is it, my dear readers. Last chapter. Then we'll have an epilogue, and then I'll be leaving the Star Wars fandom for a while, much fun as I've had dabbling in it. Hope you enjoy, I've never written an action scene any kind before. The ending might be a little confusing, there is an explanation at the end…but I sincerely ope you won't need it.**

We do not leave for quite some time. There are preparations to be made, planning to do.

But two weeks after Yoda makes his announcement, I find myself boarding Padme's ship for Corascant.

Padme managed to find time off to come down and watch the twins. She has been here for two days, getting adjusted to the well set routine. And now my family stands before me, and we are saying our uncertain goodbyes, for Force knows how long. Pretending this is ordinary, I'll be back tomorrow, ignoring all other possibilities, and because that is what we believe, that is the truth.

I hold Leia one more time. Her warm body is soft and clean. "Bye, Leia," I whisper in her ear, "I love you."

Luke is being held by Padme, red-faced and screaming. He was okay a minute ago, before he realized what was happening, but once Obi-Wan stepped onto the ship after Yoda, and he realized that this could as permanent, or more so, as the goodbyes he was used to from his mother, he dissolved. Now Padme and I exchange babies in a difficult tangle of limbs.

Luke buries his face in my shirt. "Don't Daddy go, too," he begs, sniffling, "stay."

Supporting him with one arm, I use the other to tilt his face up to mine. "Hey, its okay, Luke. We'll be back home soon. And in the meantime you have Mommy and Leia."

He mashes his damp cheek to my face. "Don't Daddy go," he pleads one more time, blue eyes round and hopeful.

"I'm sorry," I apologize, "but we'll be back soon, okay? I love you, Lukey."

"I love Daddy," he says earnestly.

I grin despite everything. That's the first time he's ever told me that.

I set him down gently by Padme's side, where he stands solemnly by her side, clutching her hand.

I walk to Padme and hug her gently. I lean down and press my lips to hers.

"Eww!" shrieks Luke, "Daddy kiss Mommy!"

Thanks for ruining _that _moment.

"I'll be home soon," I promise.

"I know," she says sincerely, eyes glistening. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Reluctantly, I turn and board the craft.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

We enter the atmosphere using a cloaking device so that the radar will not detect us. Because we have timed our attack so that it is nighttime on the side of the planet Palpatine will be, we are able to land in one of the lower levels undetected.

The three of us grab our lightsabers. Yoda and Obi-Wan clip them to their belts, but I hold mine, glad to be able to, exhilarated to be out and fighting, happy.

"Are you all right?" Obi-Wan asks, concerned, when I still have not moved and the doors are open.

"Of course," I say, standing up abruptly and allowing the filthy Corascanti air to saturate my lungs.

I walk off the ship first, but Yoda soon steps ahead of me. Obi-Wan follows, making up the end of our silent train.

The area is damp with poverty. People beg by the sidewalks. I want to help them, and almost stop.

Like most of the lower levels, the walkways are very dimly lit. Flickering light bulbs are placed every ten feet or so along the walls, but many are burnt out. Some light slides out from the boarded up windows, but dies quickly.

It with is relief that I follow Yoda onto one of countless lifts that will take us to the upper levels.

"So we're just going to walk in and start fighting him?" I ask skeptically as soon as the doors creak shut and the lift begins to churn upwards.

Yoda nods his head gravely, "Our best hope, it is, to take him by surprise. Unprepared Palpatine will be."

I shuffle my feet, hesitant to disagree with the powerful Jedi master.

"Everything will work out in the end, you'll see," Obi-Wan says comfortingly, a half-smile playing over his lips.

"I wish someone would just explain why you're so confident," I grumble, "He killed Master Windu and all the other Jedi easily enough. What makes you two think we'll be safe from him? I don't—"

I stop abruptly, twisting the edge of my sleeve in agitation, seeing the other two exchange a glance; and feeling, through the currents and eddies that seem almost normal now, communication between the two.

"Yoda didn't think it was a good idea to tell you," Obi-Wan says slowly, looking over my shoulder at the ticker that tells us what floor we're on, "but…oh, dear, I don't quite know how to say this…it sounds rather…" He trails off, turning expectantly to Yoda.

"Two clones of you, created there were," he admits, "sent to take your place in prison, one was. The other," he continues, "sent to Sidious, he was, to pretend service. Working for Sidious the past few months this clone has been. A spy he has also been."

It takes a minute for the full implications of this to sink in. "You created a clone of me, without telling me? Did you think maybe you should have _asked _me?"

"The right thing it is," Yoda says calmly, refusing to acknowledge my anger, "help us to defeat Sidious it will. Think you are the clone, and therefore faithful, Sidious will, when see you he does."

"So are you expecting him to fight instead of me?" I ask angrily, voice rising.

"No, we are not," Obi-Wan intervenes, "Midichlorians are not transferred through DNA; his count is just over the average. You are right; we should have told you the plan. Yoda believed it was best, and I just went along with it."

"You just went along with it? What if he dies? I am not going to ask another human being, another _person_, to die for me."

"No, you don't understand. He will leave and you will stay. But when you confront Palpatine, he will believe you to be the servant and therefore be off his guard when you attack."

"What about you two?" I ask as the doors hiss open into the cold night air, "Aren't you going to help me?"

Master Yoda walks out, covered in typical Corascanti clothes—elegant, draping, simple, all trace of Jedi gone—"Young Skywalker, as soon as engaged Palpatine in combat you have, help you we will."

Grimly, not speaking, I follow him out, drawing my cloak closer, Obi-Wan following behind me.

The doors to the apartment are locked, and a night watchman stands before them. But he is easily tricked into opening the door and forgetting about us with a few mind tricks from Yoda.

The hall is dark and hushed. I place my feet lightly, fearing that the slightest noise will alert someone to our presence. I hold my breath and mask my presence in the Force, until Yoda stops outside a door and indicates that this is where we will find Palpatine.

_Okay, Anakin, _Obi-Wan speaks quietly through a Force bond, _The clone should be waiting just inside the door. What you need to do is contact him without alerting Palpatine to your presence and then attack Palpatine while he is asleep._

I am hesitant. **_Isn't that a little low, attacking him while he's sleeping?_** I wonder dubiously.

_It is more than he deserves. _Obi-Wan is bitter, full of viciousness that I never saw in him while he was a Jedi. _Look what he's done to you. To everyone._

I look at my hands, metal covered in a thin layer of skin. I move them and hear the gears shift to accommodate the change.

I picture Leia, limp and empty. Dead children, burning buildings, broken families. And wonder how I could have questioned the rightness of killing Palpatine.

I reach my hand to the door. The silvery metal of the knob is cool and smooth under fingertips. And then there is a hand on my shoulder, and I turn to see Obi-Wan, looking quite panicked. _No! _He screams in my mind, _you must contact him first, from out here!_

I comply, hesitantly reaching out with the Force, probing beyond the door until I feel what I assume is the clone. It is _almost _familiar. The presence feels like a shadowy echo of something I used to be, once upon a time. **_We're here, _**I say silently, **_We're ready. _**

Using the Force, I slip the door open and move to step in, but Obi-Wan grabs the hood of my cloak and pulls me back. A cloaked man, head bent, steps out and indicates that we should follow him. We do, and at the end of the hall he tugs the three of us into what appears to be a storage closet. Someone flicks a switch and the light comes flickering on, momentarily blinding me so that I have to squint.

When I recover, I receive the greatest shock I have felt in a long time. The man has pulled his hood down, so that I can see his face, and it is like looking into a mirror…but different. His face does not sport scars. His hair is thicker, as is his skin. Even with my poor eyesight, I can make out the fact that his skin is much darker. Well, I guess that's to be expected. I've spent most of the past year indoors. It's just these past few months I've gone outside at all, and Degobah is so foggy and dark that there is no sun to speak of.

I meet his eyes, which are happy, the happiest eyes I can remember seeing since before this war started. "Hello," I say awkwardly, "I'm Anakin."

"I guess I am, too," he replies, laughing slightly. There is something wrong about that laugh… "Listen," he says shortly, "if he wakes up before you have the chance to kill him, an excuse could be that you were considering flying back to Wuquiona to finish your mission, and wanted his permission."

"What exactly was my mission?" I ask, not sure if I want to know, unable to stop myself from asking.

"Wuquiona is basically a wasteland," he informs me, "except for the native civilization. Today I was there to finish off the native populace to make room for an army outpost."

I close my eyes briefly, shuddering at the thought of this almost-me killing.

_He only does what he is told, _Obi-Wan says silently, correctly guessing the cause of my agitation, _Do not blame yourself or him. It was necessary for the good of all that he obey all of Palpatine's orders._

But it's not okay. I refuse to meet anyone's eyes, and instead glare formidably at a cleaning droid perched precariously on a shelf above the other-me's head. "Yes," I say in a monotone. I'm responsible for any death he's caused.

"Here," says the other-Anakin suddenly, "We'd better exchange cloaks so that there is less chance he'll spot the difference."

He pulls his cloak off, and I silently hand him mine. Shivering, I draw his around me. It is made of extremely thin silk, and seems to be designed mostly for style. Or at least, there's no way it would do any good in the cool Corascanti atmosphere.

"There," Obi-Wan says as soon as we've exchanged cloaks. "It's a bit harder to tell the difference now…Oh, dear, I don't know what to call you…Clone?" he winces, "That sounds awful, but there it is, I don't know how else to do it—what we need you to do is go as fast as you can to the lowest level of this skyscraper and walk about ten meters left until you find a Nubian ship, then bring it up as quickly as you can and hover outside Palpatine's window in case we need to make a quick getaway."

He nods and slips silently away.

I take a deep breath and slide out the door behind him.

We reach the place where the door is, and I put my hand on the knob, and again Obi-Wan pulls me back. But this time he pulls me into a tight embrace. He lets go of me and smiles. _Call as soon as you need us, Anakin, _he begs silently, _don't try to do this all on your own. _I nod to indicate I understand.

_May the Force be with you, _he adds silently, as I glide through the door.

I open several doors in the suite before I open one to hear a light snoring.

Palpatine.

I pad hesitantly to the bedside, hardly daring to breathe in case it wakes him. I concentrate solely on cloaking my presence. I am afraid, in my wild imaginings, that he will hear my heart beating.

When I am about a foot from the bed, I press the hilt onto his head and move to press the button—

But too late, because in the millisecond space gap I've given him, he is awake and tumbling off the bed. My lightsaber ignites only to pierce a hole in the pillows.

In one swift, fluid motion, he has a lightsaber in his hands, and is standing, knees bent, ahead of me. "And so the apprentice betrays the master," he hisses through clenched teeth. His face, which is illuminated only by the faint glow of our lightsabers, is lit with fury.

"No," I stumble, "No, I wanted to ask you—"

"And I'm sure that's why you were holding a lethal weapon to my head!" He snarls and stabs at me. I bring my own saber up from my side just in time to block it, and aim a blow of my own at his chest.

But it's too late, I am on the defensive. Now he is driving me back—back—back.

In desperation, I jump and hurl myself over his head, landing squarely on a dresser in the corner, head nearly scraping the high ceiling.

He sneers, and seems to be more annoyed than anything, as he charges at me.

When he gets near, I jab my saber at him, intending to stab his heart, but when my saber is almost close enough, he pushes it aside and uses the Force to tip the dresser, sending me sprawling.

I find myself crushed under a weight of clothes and drawers, and scramble backwards on my hands, trying to get away.

His lightsaber is drawing towards me, closer, and, still buried under the weight of clothes, I snap my wrist free and bat it away, simultaneously reaching up with my other hand to grab his wrist, bending it back—back—if the bones break it is over, he will be unarmed and I can kill him.

But just as the bones are about to crack, snapping like twigs, the gears in my hand reverse, forcing me to let go.

Obi-Wan did the same thing on Mustafar.

I reach down and grab my lightsaber, running through the door into the main part of the suite as he stoops to get his lightsaber, hoping to gain an advantage. He darts into the room, looking frantic, and I flip over his head so that once again I am behind him. I stab hopelessly at his back and this time it seems that I am fast enough because there is a hiss of pain and then he is facing me again, face contorted.

But now he is driving me back. Any time I reach out to stab at him he blocks, and, before I am able to attempt again _he _stabs at _me _until I am forced to give up and just block, over and over, in order to prevent myself from being skewered.

Each step takes a conscious effort. Something has happened and I am missing the Force, the easiness which used to live in my feet and move me. I have to think before each blow, and precious time is wasted.

Eventually, as he slowly drives me back into the hall connecting the main room with the bedroom, I flip over him one more time, and swipe at his ankles. He jumps and lands slightly off balance. When he whirls to face me I am already gone, swinging my saber in a broad sweep at his legs. He jumps again, but this time I burn off the bottom of one of his boots.

Now each step he takes is slightly lopsided, causing him to be slower to duck when I jab at him. Now _he's _on the defensive, and I am driving him towards the wall.

With a frustrated hiss, he blocks my stab and brings his still smoldering boot to my face, burning me where it touches.

Now the pain in my face has half blinded me, and realizing this, he turns on a light. And now I cannot see at all.

I guess blindly, sweeping my saber here and there, and I still have enough help from the Force that I am right most of the time and meet his blows.

But it is when I feel my back to the wall that I truly fear for my life.

I give a hoarse yell, and suddenly Obi-Wan and Yoda are in the room.

Yoda is everywhere, impossible to focus on, blurring as he darts here and there.

And Obi-Wan—Obi-Wan fights with me. He is beside me, his every step designed to work with mine, each stab or swipe carefully coordinated.

Suddenly, as though at a signal, I flip over Palpatine's head and stab at his back. He is so busy flinging things at Yoda with the Force that when he turns to block me his attention is diverted completely.

He is unprepared for Obi-Wan's blade in his side.

He topples to the ground, his face surprised. We all stop moving in shock, to watch.

His hands claw at his stomach, and when he opens his mouth to speak, blood trickles out.

"Anakin," he breathes, "do not…please…do not…have mercy…"

I have no pity left in me.

And suddenly, in a way I have never felt before, I _am _the Force. I am Palpatine, and suddenly I know all of his plans and ambitions, his weaknesses and fears.

And so I can only watch from my own body as the Force fills me and uses me to press the blade to Palpatine's skull, killing him instantly. And just as suddenly, both of our Force-presences, which were contained in that body, are gone.

The universe is so quiet I wonder if I have gone deaf.

Oh, there are noises. Obi-Wan is tugging at my cloak, begging me to hurry. Yoda is at the window, sliding it open and jumping into the waiting ship.

But there are no emotions, no feeling, no whisper of thought. I allow Obi-Wan to guide me to the ship, feeling isolated.

I have lost my bond with Obi-Wan. I feel no pain, no emptiness, because there is nothing to feel. I have suddenly and irrevocably been stripped of anything concerning the Force.

I am isolated. I suddenly cannot prove without looking and feeling that anyone else exists. There is just me now, lost without a sense of where I am.

I tumble into the ship, and do not take the pilot seat. There is little I can do to help.

Obi-Wan says, "The Force is balanced Anakin."

I give a shuddering sob. "I can't feel it. I can't feel anything."

He looks at me sadly. "I know. I feel your pain, and I felt it when our bond was riped apart."

"I'm sorry," I mutter, and I feel as though I am a padawan again with nightmares in the night. "But I can't feel anything."

"You have done your job. I am only sorry it had to come at such a high cost to you. By releasing the two most powerful Force-presences, the Force has been balanced…Anakin, I am so proud of you right now I cannot even say."

"Thank you," I tell him, and mean it.

"The galaxy is a better place because of you," he says softly, "there is nothing more you could have done."

Padme is awake when I walk through the door. She is curled up in a ball on an armchair, reading a book. She is so thoroughly absorbed she does not notice me entering.

Wanting to surprise her, I creep behind the chair and touch her shoulders gently. "Hello, Padme," I say softly.

She yelps and flings her book to the ground, moving to face me in one motion.

When she sees who it is, her face lights up with a smile. "Ani…oh, Ani, I'm so happy to see you…oh, I've missed you so much.

I kiss her softly and stroke her soft air. "I missed you too," I say, momentarily forgetting everything else. "It's good to see you, too."

For no reason at all, she laughs. "I'm just so happy," she says in response to my confused look. "I didn't know if you'd be back."

"I'm here," I say softly. "It's over."

**A/N II:**

**See, his Force Presence—not his consciousness—was in Palpatine's body when Palpatine died. So he lost his Force presence but kept his consciousness. As far as I know there is nothing in the SW universe preventing this. Stay tuned for the epilogue.**


	27. Epilogue

**---------------Luke and Leia's Second Birthday---------------**

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, Luke and Leia! Happy birthday to you!"

The four of us—Obi-Wan, Padme, Yoda, and me—cheer enthusiastically as Luke leans forward from his place on Obi-Wan's lap, and, in two slobbery bursts of air, puffs out the four candles stuck into the green icing.

Padme looks somewhat skeptical as she cuts the cake that Obi-Wan and I made this morning and offers the first piece to Yoda, who politely shakes his head. "Not hungry, I am," he says unconvincingly, "ate before I came, I did." Padme shrugs and slides the plate over to Luke, who is dressed in full cake eating garb, from the bib with dragons all over it to the hat covering his hair.

"It's really not as bad as it looks," Obi-Wan cajoles the small Jedi, "come on…just have a bite."

Luke rips a chunk off his piece and shovels it into his mouth, smearing an inordinate amount of purple sprinkles across his face.

Padme looks at him for half a second, bouncing a giggling Leia on her hip, before turning hesitantly to face Obi-Wan and me.

"Why," she asks, bewildered, "is it _pink_?"

"It's strawberry!" I cry, "you and Luke _both _specifically requested a strawberry cake!"

"You should be _thanking _us, really," Obi-Wan adds reproachfully.

"Ex_act_ly!" I agree, nodding my head furiously, "We put a lot into that cake. It took all morning to make."

"And that's not counting the time we spent looking for recipes…"

"Or writing up the grocery list…"

"Or cleaning up the kitchen afterwards…"

"Exactly."

We both face her expectantly.

However, now she is not only as mystified before, she is now clearly struggling not to laugh. Laugh! I shake my head sorrowfully. "She just doesn't recognize fine cuisine," I lament.

"I suppose not," he agrees regretfully. "I suppose we'll have to eat the entire, de_light_ful cake all on our own."

I grin and cut two over-large slices, scooping each onto a plastic plate.

Beside Obi-Wan, Yoda is shaking his head like an over-indulgent parent. "A unique shape that cake has," he points out unnecessarily as my slice dissolves into globs of dough and sugar on my plate.

Naturally, the instant I have a satisfactorily large bite prepared, Padme feels the need to point out—

"But the strawberry extract I bought was _clear._ I'm still not exactly sure as to why the cake is pink."

"Luke seems to enjoy it," Obi-Wan points out, finding himself unable to eat and balance Luke on his lap at the same time.

Deliberately, I lower my fork, and, oh-so-slowly, meet my wife's eyes. "The strawberry extract _was_ clear," I say solemnly, "but the fruit punch I put in was pink."

"Oh," Padme says, looking somewhat revolted, "that explains the…interesting…texture, I guess," she adds playfully. "Obi-Wan, I thought you were going to supervise him!"

"I'm afraid he just got rather out of control."

"Luke likes it!" I defend.

"And why green icing?" she mourns, now carefully dissecting her slice.

"White was boring." Obi-Wan nods to confirm my statement. "See?" I declare triumphantly.

"And purple sprinkles!" She giggles mirthfully.

"Luke likes purple," Obi-Wan points out.

"Luke also likes eating bugs," she says ruefully, eliciting a squeal of delight from said toddler. "But I hope you didn't bake those into the cake."

"Well, see, there's a funny story about that…"

"Anakin, you didn't!"

"Of course not," I assure her, somewhat amused she thought I would bake bugs into a cake.

Padme situates Leia in her high chair and scoops a little bowlful of vanilla ice cream, which she begins to spoon methodically into Leia's open mouth. Leia smiles at the taste.

It was two years before Leia spoke.

Obi-Wan was seated in an armchair playing Simon Says with Luke. I had just changed her diaper and had decided to take her outside. I slid her arms into her jacket and pulled shoes onto her feet. When I opened the door, Leia called out to her brother.

"Looth!"

My daughter's voice was high and wet. It wobbled as she spoke as if she could not quite figure out how to transform the noises she could make into words.

It wasn't perfect, but it was clear what she meant. "Leia talked!" Luke crowed triumphantly, grabbing Obi-Wan's hand and pulling him to where I stood holding. "Did you hear? Do it again! Again! Again!" He chanted, grabbing his sister's hand.

To everyone's dismay, she began to cry and had to be put to bed.

But it is as though some barrier has been breached. She begins to learn new words. Not very quickly, but each new one brings more happiness to us all, especially Luke, who has been wanting badly another child to talk to.

Aside from "Looth," she learns "O-bwun," "Marmy," and "Dada."

When she is five years old, she begins to speak in simple sentences.

It is on the twins' fifth birthday that I begin to realize that my peaceful existence cannot go on. When I was tucking Luke into bed, he said, "Say goodnight to Woggle, too," he demands solemnly, tugging my hand and pointing to an empty space on his pillow.

"Woggle?"

"He's my 'maginary friend. Cause I don't have lot's of friends like the kids on holovision."

"You have me," I reply, "and Obi-Wan, and Mommy, when she can be around. And Leia, too."

"But no other real kids," he says sadly.

I say goodnight to Luke and Woggle and walk in a daze into the living room, which I find empty. Grateful for this small blessing, I heave myself into an armchair and rest my head on my hands.

Maybe Luke shouldn't stay here any more. Maybe…maybe it isn't right to keep him here, so isolated from everything. He's getting to the age when he should be starting school, learning to read and write. Making friends.

And Leia…it's selfish to keep her here. I picture my daughter, sitting listlessly with her back to a chair. She is such a beautiful child, but she has always been…she will always be, different. Slower. If she can get help, any help at all, we should let her.

I walk silently into Leia's bedroom and lean against the doorframe. She moves slightly in her sleep as the light hits her eyes, but yawns and continues dreaming.

I wonder what it's like in Leia's world. Maybe if I could still use the Force, I could speak to her. Maybe she wouldn't have to leave just to get help. I should be able to help her…

Biting my lip, I close the door and return to the living room.

In my absence, Obi-Wan has taken a seat on the couch with a newspaper.

"What's troubling you?" he asks immediately. I frown. I have never grown comfortable to the fact that while I am so much an open book for anyone skilled in the Force, Obi-Wan is perfectly capable of hiding his feelings, should he so choose.

Realizing he will eventually drive me to tell him, I admit, "I've been thinking about Leia...and Luke…Master, do you think we're doing the right thing, keeping them here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…I don't know. Do you ever think it's wrong to keep them here? This isn't…right. They need a chance to live a _life—_I've lost mine, I don't have a choice but to stay here. But the twins…and you, too, you've done nothing wrong, you should be working on rebuilding the Jedi Order or something." I do not voice my silent hope that I will somehow be of help, somehow redeem myself, but I think from the sad way he looks at me that he knows anyway.

"Anakin," he says haltingly, "Master Yoda, Master Qui-Gon, and myself made a decision several years ago not to rebuild the Jedi order. When the Force presences of both you and Palpatine were released into the Force, the most powerful dark presence and the most powerful light presence, it created a balance. Training people in the light side would siphon off some of the light-side power, and actually help the Dark Side."

I stare at him stunned for a minute. "The Order has existed for thousands…millions…of years. You can't just…"

"It is the right thing to do. As for Luke and Leia…where will they go if you send them away? They have lived here all their lives, they will be unhappy if you send them away."

"At first, maybe. But they deserve to live a life. Padme actually suggested it a few months ago…and I said no outright. I didn't even want to _think _about it. But I did. What she wanted to do is pretend she was adopting them both, and they could live with her on Corascant. Whenever Senate wasn't in session, the three of them would come back here."

"It would be a big change…for everyone…"

Inevitably, it is done. Leia and Luke move in with their mother, and the three visit as often as they can, which is most weekends.

Leia gets help from every brand of medic, teacher, and therapist available. She is never as fast as Luke, and never outgrows being a little girl, but she is able to function a little, at least to the point of feeding and dressing herself.

Luke is a wonderful brother, from what I hear and see of him. Padme tells me he is very protective and more like an older brother than a twin. Apparently, he allows her to follow him most places and won't allow his friends to tease her at all. I am proud, and, when he is here for his seventh birthday, tell him so.

Padme also tells me that Leia is making friends of her own at the special school she is attending. A deaf girl named Lydia and another brain damaged child, a boy two years younger than her, Ponton. Padme sends me a home video of the three together, and watching the children play I almost forget they are different at all.

The first time I really, truly begin to understand my little girl is when the twins are ten and they and Padme are here for two weeks. The third night of the visit finds Luke huddled over a table playing holochess with Obi-Wan while Padme and I are sprawled across the floor playing Candy Land with Leia. "Leia play with Luke," she begs.

"You can't play with Lukey, sweetheart," I say gently, "He and Uncle Obi-Wan are playing right now."

"Want to play," she insists stubbornly, bottom lip trembling and eyes threatening to overflow.

"Sweety, you don't know how to play. Play Candy Land with Mommy and Daddy," Padme wheedles, stroking her daughter's back.

By this time, Luke has turned from the game. "Leia play with Luke?" she asks now of her brother.

"No, Leia," he says dismissively, "You don't know how to play."

I frown hearing his careless tone, and remind myself to talk to him later, when Leia begins crying, temporarily stopping all activity.

Leia's crying is not just crying, it is always full out tantrums. She screams and pulls her hair, throws things, and all we can do is sit with her and make sure she doesn't hurt herself. I grab her flailing feet and Obi-Wan holds her arms still and Padme supports her back and we lift her, struggling, onto the couch.

Her fit eventually subsides to just tears as she begins to tire. She continues sobbing, but stops fighting us so that we are able to let her go. Amidst all the unintelligible moaning, I hear, distinctive, "Do nothing good, stupid Leia. Want to play with Luke…"

I had never before realized she knew she was different.

That night, Padme and I are talking, when, in a lull in the conversation, she says, "Ani…I'm pregnant. We're going to have another baby."

I smile. "That's good news," I say softly, bringing her face to mine and kissing her gently.

She breaks away. "I don't know what to do," she says miserably, "I'm not ready for another baby; I don't have the time. Ani…do you think we should give the baby up?"

I've already given up two of my children, to a great extent. "No."

Her eyes glisten with tears. "I want this baby, too, but I don't know what to do. The new queen is seriously considering finding another Senator, and something like this…"

"The baby could live here, for a few years," I suggest cautiously. "We could take care of a baby."

"Yes, I know you could," she says with a half smile, "but I can't give this baby up, even to you, even if I'd see it all the time. I did that with the twins; I want to raise this baby from the beginning."

"Come live on Degobah," I propose. "Stop work in the Senate; you and the kids could move back here…we could be more of a family."

"I couldn't do that to the children."

When the baby is born, eight months after the twins' eleventh birthday, Padme is dismissed from the Senate.

She comes without the twins this time, and, even without the Force, I can see how distraught she is. "I've been in politics all my life," she says bitterly, weeping onto my shoulder. "I feel so humiliated. She did it in front of everyone else, and they were all looking at me like I was some awful person. It was terrible."

I stroke her hair. "What matters most is that we're together," I whisper in her ear, "We have the children, and each other. Nothing else matters."

Padme and the baby, a girl, Leanne, do end up coming to Degobah. It is wonderful, having them here, but for those six months I do not see Luke and Leia at all. They are living with their Aunt Sola and her family.

Leanne has curly dark blond hair, brown eyes, and tiny, delicate features, even smaller than Luke and Leia were at her age. Her skin is fair, almost translucent, but seems to glow. She is quiet and everything she does has an ethereal feel about it.

When Padme decides to go back to Naboo and work for an environmental protection group, she leaves Leanne behind. Since she is looked after by two men who have little contact with anyone else, she is probably the best loved baby in the galaxy. She barely whimpers when someone rushes to her side, she is always held and talked to. She is a beautiful child, just like her sister. She is what Leia could have been.

The next time I see the twins it is for their thirteenth birthday. They are both incredibly different from the last time I saw them, and I am sad to think of what I missed. Luke comes to Obi-Wan and me with girl problems (Which of course delighted me to no end. Really.), and Leia is quieter than before.

I stand quietly, watching the three children play. Luke holds Leanne and sings little songs while making her tiny feet dance. Leia sings along and laughs loudly at her sister's dancing.

They look happy, content.

It appears that despite everything, we are still a family.

Obi-Wan is watching the scene as well, with a grin on his face. He cares for the children as much as I do, and is just as much of a father-figure as I am—maybe, to Luke, though I hate to admit it, more than I am.

A timer goes off in the kitchen, and the two of us meander in. It's time to take our cake out of the oven and decorate it.

**THE END!  
**

**Author's FINAL Note:**

**Wow. It's over. I seriously am in shock. The ending is a little shaky, because I couldn't quite figure out how to end. I hope at least some of you enjoyed the more lighthearted tone of this chapter.**

**Please review; it's your last chance!**

**Thanks everyone who's stuck with me. Hope to see some of you in the future; I plan to keep writing, if not in the SW universe than maybe HP, LotR, or PotC.**


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